Mutually Beneficial
by Mag68
Summary: Starts in Star Crossed Lovers… and flashes back to pre-series events in each chapter. Lorelai and Luke have benefits before becoming friends with benefits. It will be about the effects of their sporadic intimacy on their growing friendship and vice-versa.
1. Choosing a Participating Provider

**A/N: This story is for IkilledKenny, who has my eternal gratitude for her unparalleled generosity. This is a little something that has been rattling around in my head for a while, so I just need to get it out. Big smooches and my undying devotion to Pink Hammer to being my sounding board and Ninjasquid for the fantastic beta services.**

**This will be an exploration of friendship versus intimacy, and how one can impact the other for better or worse. It starts around the time of Star Crossed Lovers and Other Strangers and will continue through the end of season one with flashbacks to various points pre-series. Let me know what you think.**

**Choosing a Participating Provider**

_**March 2001**_

"Hey," Lorelai said as she walked into the deserted diner, the bells jingling softly as she closed the door behind her.

"Hey."

"You about to close?" she asked.

"Yep," Luke answered with his usual economy of words.

"Want me to empty that pot out for you?" she asked as she nodded to the dark liquid at the bottom of the coffee pot.

"You don't want that," he grumbled.

Lorelai smiled. "You're probably right. I just ate an entire roll of Mentos." She turned back to the door, flipping the sign to 'closed' and twisting the lock before she started toward the curtain. Glancing back, she saw Luke watching her impassively. "Is this okay?" she asked as she paused, holding the curtain back with one hand.

"Sure."

"Okay," she said softly, and then disappeared beyond the swaying fabric.

Luke sighed and hung his head for a moment before reaching for a clean pot. With practiced ease, he started a fresh pot of coffee. He left the carafe with the inky sludge lining the bottom on the counter and headed for the curtain, knowing he'd have plenty of time to clean it out later.

He found Lorelai standing in the dark, gazing out of the window with her arms crossed protectively over her chest. "You okay?"

Lorelai shrugged, turning her head slightly to offer him a small smile. "I ruined Hamburger Helper. I didn't think that was possible, but I did."

He stepped into the apartment, leaving the door open and the light from the hall spilling across the scarred wooden floor. "That takes a certain level of skill," he said as he crossed the room.

"I know. Sometimes I still surprise myself."

Luke stopped just behind her, his eyes skimming over the tense muscles in her shoulders and neck. He reached out, gently resting his hands on her shoulders, and Lorelai tensed further. Luke froze, letting his hands rest lightly on her and waiting for some kind of signal from her to proceed. When she relaxed a little, he began to knead the knotted muscles beneath the soft wool of her sweater. "Where's Rory?"

"Studying for her history exam; I got kicked out," Lorelai answered quietly.

"Disruptive?"

"Aren't I always?"

"Yes," he answered gruffly. Luke gathered her hair in one hand, pulling it over her right shoulder as he bent and pressed a soft kiss just beneath her ear. Lorelai shivered and tipped her head to grant him better access. "Is this okay?" he asked in a low, soft voice.

"It's perfect."

Luke kissed his way along the muscle in her neck; his lips soft and soothing, and his tongue gliding over her skin. Lorelai moaned as he stepped closer to her, pressing up against her back as his arms encircled her waist. "Missed you," he murmured against her ear.

"Please don't," she pled softly.

"Don't what? Don't miss you?"

"Don't talk. Don't say those things."

"Okay," he agreed gruffly, moving back slightly.

"No," Lorelai gasped, capturing his hands as they started to slide from her waist. "Don't stop."

Closing his eyes, Luke nuzzled her hair, reveling in the feel of her silky curls teasing his rough skin. "What do you want?"

"I want you to touch me," she said as she guided his hands up under her sweater, holding them until they closed over her breasts.

Letting her head fall back against his shoulder, she arched into his palms. Tiny, weak mewls of need peppered the air, making her cringe inwardly as he teased her nipples, his fingers circling them until they hardened into points. Lorelai reached one arm up, cradling the back of his head in her palm as his teeth scraped over her ear lobe.

She didn't need to ask for anything more; Luke knew what she wanted. One hand slipped down to the button on her jeans as the other worked her sweater up over her breasts. Lorelai gasped as he abandoned her jeans to open the clasp of her bra. She bit back a whimper when he pulled away for a moment to strip off her sweater and bra. Unable to wait, she gripped the window frame and leaned back as he was still only midway through removing his own shirts.

"Mmm," she hummed as the soft hair on his stomach and chest brushed against her back. "Mm hmm," she expounded as he cupped her breasts again, kneading them roughly. She leaned into his hands, pushing against the wooden trim as he pressed against her, his cock straining against the worn denim of his jeans. She rubbed her bottom against him; letting her head fall forward and pressing her forehead to the cool pane of glass.

"Here?" he rasped as he found the tab of her zipper.

"Right here."

"We're in the window," he reminded her.

"No one will see. No one will look up," she whispered as he opened her jeans and began to push them and her panties down over her hips.

"You don't know that," he said as he held her jeans, waiting for her to step out of them.

"People only see what they want to see," she said softly.

Luke rose up behind her, his hands trailing possessively over the curve of her bare bottom. "Been a long time," he murmured.

"A year," she answered matter-of-factly.

"I see," he answered, his voice dropping a few degrees. Luke's hands slid over her hips, gliding appreciatively along the contours of her slightly rounded belly, and then down to her thighs, his fingers pressing into her delicate skin as she parted her legs. "Do I get to ask what brought this on?"

"I just…" Lorelai stopped, wet her lips and circled her hips as his fingers danced lightly over her folds.

"You just?" he prompted.

"Want you. This. I want this," she whispered.

"Right here," he said, his voice rough and raspy as he parted her with his fingers and found her wet and ready.

"Right now," she whispered, pressing back against the rough fabric of his jeans as she rolled her forehead against the smooth glass.

Luke stepped back and opened his belt and jeans. He pushed them down far enough to free his erection, but didn't bother taking them off, knowing that as soon as they were done, she'd be gone.

Lorelai pressed her palms to the cool glass and rested her head on the back of her fingers, straightening her back and bending at her hips as she stepped back, spreading her legs further. She turned her head and opened her eyes slowly, catching a glimpse of him as he stepped between her legs once more.

Turning back to the window, Lorelai stared down at the empty square below as she pushed against the window. Feeling the tip of his cock nudge her entrance, she wondered for an instant if the thin pane of glass could really keep her from falling. He thrust forward, filling her with one hard stroke, and she cried out in shock, grasping for the window frame, a sudden jolt of fear coursing through her body.

Luke clamped his mouth shut, biting back the urge to ask if she was okay. A small part of him hoped that he had hurt her. He watched as her fingers clawed at the old varnished wood that held the glass in place, and felt an almost unbearable need to keep her off balance. He drew back and thrust into her again, smiling grimly as a strangled gasp escaped her.

Circling her hips, she wordlessly begged for more, accepting the twinges of pain as punishment for the flicker of pain she had seen in his eyes the week before. She felt him brace one hand on her back, the fingers of his other hand dug into her hip. He moved faster, plunging into her over and over again, deep grunts of frustration and desire bouncing off of the clear, smooth glass and rippling over her. Luke reached for her breast, squeezing it roughly as his balls slapped against her. Lost in the feel of his pulsing cock inside of her, his possessive hand closing over her breast convulsively and the aching flesh between her legs; she reached down and began to stroke her clit. Lorelai moaned as his wet shaft brushed against her fingers. She could feel him tensing, growing fuller with each stroke, and began to stroke herself faster, eager to catch up.

Gritting his teeth, Luke continued to push into her hard and hot. Heedless of the frantic movement of her hand, he forced himself to relax his already shaky hold on his control, and moments later flooded into her, holding himself still and letting each pulse of her tight walls milk him dry. His hand flexed, still covering her breast loosely as Lorelai stroked herself furiously, still chasing her release.

Frustrated and impatient with her, he pulled away, ignoring her outcry of displeasure. "Here," he said as he spun her around and pushed her back against the window.

"What?"

Luke dropped to his knees in front of her, parting her folds with his thumbs as he opened his mouth and drew her clit against his tongue.

"Oh." Lorelai moaned, torn between the heat of his mouth and the cold glass against her ass. He circled her clit with his tongue and then began to suck it greedily. Within seconds, she felt the first wave of her climax wrack her body. She spasmed above him, her hands braced on the inside of the window frame to hold herself steady on wobbly legs.

When the convulsions began to subside, Luke rocked back and then stood up, dragging his jeans and boxers up as he straightened.

"Better?" he asked, his voice deep and harsh.

"Yes," she hissed, sagging onto the window sill.

Luke bent down and gathered her clothes from the floor, straightening each piece and handing them to her one by one, watching as she dressed in a daze.

When she stood and wriggled her feet into her shoes, he couldn't resist any longer. "Are you okay?" he asked, genuine concern seeping into his voice.

"I'm fine," she said quickly as she glanced around the room. "Coat? Oh," she said, answering her own question with a nod as she spied it draped over the back of his chair.

As she shrugged into it, she forced a smile and asked, "You going to the Firelight Festival this weekend?"

"Not unless I'm accidentally lobotomized between now and Friday," he answered as he yanked his shirts down over his head.

"Aw, come on, Luke. You don't know what you're missing," she cajoled as she headed for the door.

"I've lived here my whole life, I know exactly what I'm missing," he grumbled as he followed her out into the hall and pulled the door shut behind them.

"The food, the bonfire, the Founders Day Punch," she said enticingly as they walked down the creaking wooden stairs.

"The drunks stumbling into the fire after they puke up a half dozen corn dogs and a lung," he replied.

"You always know how to find the fun, don't you?" she teased as they pushed through the curtain and into the diner.

Without a word, they immediately sought refuge on their customary sides of the counter. Luke plucked a to-go cup from the stack and lifted the coffee pot in one fluid movement. "It's fresh," he said as he poured.

"You didn't have to do that, I would have taken the old stuff," she protested as he pressed a lid onto the cup.

"No problem," he said as he placed the cup on the counter between them.

"Rory and Dean are celebrating their three month anniversary this weekend."

"Wow. Three whole months," Luke said dryly.

"Well, they've got me beat," Lorelai muttered as she rummaged in her pockets for a dollar.

"I just meant that I didn't think the bag boy had what it took to keep up with her for three months," he said, scowling at the crumpled bill she slid across the counter.

Lorelai's smile was warm, but a little sad as she picked up the cup and finally dared to meet his eyes. "Yeah, we Gilmore girls are hard to keep up with. Thanks, Luke," she said softly.

"Goodnight, Lorelai," he answered as she turned toward the door.

****

Luke stuffed the dollar into the register, having long since given up on that fight, and leaned against the back counter as she flipped the lock and let herself out into the cold night. Crossing his arms over his chest, he remained where he was, his eyes glued to her back, watching until she disappeared from view. Staring out into the dark, he wondered what the bag boy had that he didn't have. His mind flashed back to the night he first saw her, and then he dropped his chin to his chest as the guilt and shame flooded his cheeks, staining them red.

****

Lorelai pulled her coat tighter, hugging herself fiercely, all the while trying not to spill her coffee. When she reached the opposite side of the square, she glanced back at the glow of lights in the diner and sighed as she tossed the untouched cup into a nearby trash can. Shivering in the brisk early spring wind, her gaze drifted away from the diner to the neon Miller Lite sign that cut the gloom of the night, slicing into her defenses. Resolutely, she squeezed her eyes shut as she turned away, trying beat back the wave of remorse that threatened to break down the dam she had carefully constructed to hold back memories best not relived.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

_**April 1992 **_

Nervousness and excitement roiled in her stomach as she hurried down the sidewalk, her arm linked tightly with Sookie's and her bare legs covered in goosebumps from the cool spring wind. The neon beer signs lit their destination, and Lorelai returned Sookie's giddy grin with a hesitant smile. _You're twenty-four years old_, she told herself sternly. _You can do this, this is what people your age do. _

But the fact of the matter was that the whole plan made her nervous. Yes, she was twenty-four now, twenty-four as of Wednesday; but she'd never done this, not really. Her twenty-first birthday was spent with Sookie mixing margaritas in a blender they had appropriated from the inn's kitchen for that express purpose. Sookie drove her to the Liquor Barn, where Lorelai Gilmore herself presented her ID and walked out two minutes later, fifteen precious dollars poorer, but holding a bottle of tequila and a jug of margarita mix. Sookie and Rory had decorated the potting shed with crepe paper streamers and half-inflated balloons, and Sookie had made little mini tacos at Lorelai's request. She considered that an excellent birthday.

But now, things were different. She had bigger goals than spending her hard earned money in bars every weekend. She was this close to having enough to make a modest down payment on a house. _And in just another year or two, we'll have one_, she promised herself as Sookie pulled open the door to KC's bar.

_It's just one night,_ Sookie had pleaded with her. _One night to go out and kick your heels up and celebrate! It's your birthday, you just got a promotion! Mia will stay with Rory for a few hours. You've got to get out and live a little, Lorelai._

Lorelai stopped just inside the door, eying the dark, wood paneled bar skeptically as Sookie tugged on her arm.

"Look, there's Jose and Bob," Sookie said as she pointed to two of the staff from the inn, who were currently not dressed as bus boys and busy shooting pool.

"I'm not sure I should be partying with Jose and Bob," Lorelai said dubiously. "I mean, I'm their boss now."

Sookie rolled her eyes as she pulled Lorelai into the barroom. "You're the Assistant Manager, not the President of the Universe. Come on, let's have some fun."

And they did have fun. Jose and Bob were funny and easy to hang around with. After the first shot of tequila, Lorelai was almost able to squelch the overwhelming desire to find a pay phone to check on Rory and Mia. By the time they chased a kamikaze shot down with a fresh beer, Lorelai felt loose enough to grab the pool cue from Jose's hand and challenge both men to a game, two on one. Sookie pumped the jukebox full of dollar bills, and Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch were extolling the virtues of _Good Vibrations_ the first time she looked up and caught the guy sitting at the bar scowling at her.

Lorelai turned back to the game, laughing too loudly at something Bob said, and then glancing up to see if he was still looking. Satisfied that he was, she let her gaze slip casually over his flannel shirt and backwards baseball cap before letting her lips curve into what she hoped was an enigmatic smile and bending over to take her shot. She sank three more balls, playfully razzing the guys as they groaned about being taken by a hustler. While Jose lined up his shot, she glanced over to find that they guy had turned back to the muted television.

****

Two hours later, Kevin Casey cleared yet another empty beer bottle as he asked, "You done?"

"One more," Luke answered, signaling with his finger.

"Just one. I'm not carrying you home tonight," Kevin added in a low voice.

"Jeez, once. That happened once," Luke grumbled as he took the bottle of beer, lacing his fingers around it and cradling it in his hands.

"You weigh a ton," Kevin complained as he strolled to the other end of the bar.

The girl in the short black skirt laughed again. Luke didn't need to turn around to know it was her. The laugh matched her smile, and her smile, well, it was too dangerous to look at. _Like an eclipse. A guy could go blind looking at a smile like that_, he told himself sternly. _I'm never goin' blind again._

Luke Danes knew he wasn't in a very good place. He'd lost his dad after a long, arduous illness just eight months before. The moment William Danes' estate was settled, Luke's flaky sister took off with his nephew for parts unknown. And then Rachel. There he was, knee-deep in the renovations needed to make his dad's old hardware store into a diner, and Rachel just up and left. Again. This time for Thailand. What was worse, he didn't see it coming.

She had been there, by his side, holding his hand through those last terrible months with his dad, holding him close after they planted his father in the ground, and holding a sketch pad as he moved around the empty storefront, trying to describe his plans in such a way that they could be captured with pen and paper. And then, before the first wall had even been torn down, she was gone.

The girl laughed again, and Luke swiveled on his seat to glare at her. Some idiotic boy band music blared from the jukebox as she circled the table, letting her fingers trail along the green felt as she stalked her next shot. She bent over, her short skirt riding up to the tops of her long, firm thighs as she struck the cue ball and sent three others sailing across the felt. She turned her head before straightening up, catching him staring, and smiling that smile forcing him to quickly look away.

_Girls like that, they know what they're doing. Girls like that don't want anything to do with guys like you,_ he told himself firmly. _Girls like that, they only break your heart. She doesn't belong here, look at her. She's out with her friends, slumming for the night with the local yokels. _Luke turned back toward the pool tables and squinted through the haze of cigarette smoke. _How does Sookie St. James know her? Is Sookie St. James even old enough to be in here?_ he wondered.

Luke turned back to the bar and twirled his bottle of beer as he tried to force his alcohol soaked brain to do the math. _Sookie is younger than Liz. A year? Two? She might be twenty-one. Wait, maybe twenty-three. Liz is twenty-five, no, twenty-six. How old am I?_ Luke gave his head a quick shake and held up his hand to get Kevin's attention.

"Gimme a shot of Jack," he called.

"No," Kevin answered.

"Come on."

"I told you," Kevin said warningly.

"Fine, forget it," Luke said as he snatched up his bottle of beer. He tipped the bottle up and drained the contents in two large gulps. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the girl heading toward the restrooms off the narrow hall in back. Pulling a crumpled twenty from the pocket of his stained jeans, Luke tossed it onto the bar.

"Heading out?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah, I've still got my legs under me," Luke snarled.

"Come on, Luke," Kevin said quietly. "You know I can't let you just drink yourself blind every night."

Luke slapped one hand on the top of the bar and said, "Not the booze that makes you blind, buddy."

"Don't I know it," Kevin commiserated.

"Gotta pee," Luke mumbled as he shoved away from the bar, moving a little unsteadily toward the restrooms in back.

The hallway was narrow and one of the lights had long since burned out. Luke leaned into the wall as the ladies room door opened, and the girl in the skirt stepped out.

He blinked and reared back. "I forgot you were back here," he blurted.

"What?" she asked with a dazzling smile.

"Do you smile all the time?" he snarled.

Lorelai's smile faded as she blinked at him in surprise. "Do you scowl all the time?" she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't scowl."

"You've been scowling at me all night."

"You were being obnoxious."

"I was having a good time. Isn't that why people go out to bars?"

"Well, as long as you're having a good time," he said snidely.

"What's your problem?" Lorelai demanded, her eyes blazing.

"You. you're my problem," Luke shot back.

"Me? You don't even know me!"

"I know you. I know girls like you," Luke sneered.

"You know nothing about me! Nothing!"

"You just smile and flirt and the whole world is supposed to fall at your feet," he jeered.

"You're cracked."

"Well, I've got news for ya, I'm not falling," he continued, undeterred.

"Gotcha," she answered, smirking at him as she tried to scoot past him. Luke shifted, blocking her path, and Lorelai gaped at him. "What? What do you want?"

"What do I want?" he repeated, staring at her pointedly.

"I thought you weren't falling, big guy," she said archly.

"Shut up."

"What do you want?" she asked again, this time her voice softly mocking as she leaned toward him, ready to plant a knee in his groin.

"You talk too much."

"So I've been told," Lorelai answered without missing a beat. She looked up at him, staring into those dark fringed blue eyes impatiently. "You gonna make your move or are you gonna get out of my way?" she asked, refusing to back down.

Lorelai blinked when she saw the momentary flicker of fear in his eyes. Rocking back on her heels she shook her head in confusion, a tiny crease marring her smooth brow.

Luke reached up and touched the tip of his finger to the furrow, smoothing it away gently as he asked, "Why are you here?"

"My friend…" she started and then stopped, her breath coming in soft puffs as his fingertips traced the curve of her cheek.

"Why did you come here?" he asked miserably. Her eyes widened, growing soft with awareness and a flash of desire that made his body ache.

"I live…"

Luke cut her off, closing his lips over hers before she could shatter the moment and his illusions with harsh reality. He didn't want to hear that she lived somewhere else because in that moment he wanted her here. He didn't want her to talk anymore, so he kissed her. He kissed her with everything he had; every ounce of pain and frustration, every spark of tamped down fire and desire, and every shred of dignity that he had left. He kissed her, because that soft, confused look on her face told him that he could and should.

Lorelai's fingers clutched the sleeve of his shirt, bunching the soft flannel in the palm of her hand as she felt herself falling, falling, falling into that bottomless kiss. Without conscious thought, her body arched against his; reaching for something she wasn't sure she wanted, and definitely knew she didn't need in her life at that moment.

When he lifted his head, she gasped for breath, and then he kissed her again. He wanted to keep her off balance, needing her to feel the burn of the heat that was consuming him from the inside out. Her arms wound around his neck, and her fingers slid up under the bill of his baseball cap to tangle in the dark curls beneath. He stepped into her, and she took a quick step back, bumping up against the door to the ladies room. His thigh pressed between her legs and she moaned into his mouth, pressing herself against the hard muscle instinctively as his tongue circled hers. She tipped her head back, trapping his hand against the door as it fisted in her hair.

He began to kiss his way down the side of her neck, fiery hot kisses, scorching swirls of his tongue, and searing scrapes of his teeth. She pressed against him, rubbing her body against the solid wall of muscle that pinned her to the door, and suddenly she was falling for real.

A startled laugh escaped his lips. He grappled for her waist as the door swung inward and they stumbled into the ladies room.

"Oops," she whispered.

He laughed again, a deep breathy chuckle that vibrated through her as she clutched his arms, trying to steady herself. His smile was heart-stopping, bright white and full, crinkling the corners of his navy blue eyes as she stared at him in shock.

Suddenly self-conscious, Luke tore his gaze from her, glancing around the tiny room as his hands tightened involuntarily on her waist. He could feel the heat of her vivid blue eyes boring into him like a laser. He cleared his throat softly and said, "Wow, no better than the men's room."

"No?"

"A little nicer, maybe," he said as he took a tiny step back and ducked his head. "Listen, I'm sor…"

This time, Lorelai cut him off, kissing him fiercely, desperate to negate whatever lame apology was about to tumble from his lips. The kiss heated instantly, and within seconds the bathroom door slammed shut as he pinned her against it. This time, it was her turn to laugh as he bent to nip at her throat, his big hand closing over her breast, kneading it through her thin blouse.

"God, you feel good," she whispered, another chuckle of disbelief punctuating her statement.

"You're beautiful," he mumbled as his hand slid over her hip to her bare thigh, massaging her silken skin as he lifted her leg, urging her to hook it around his.

She kissed him hungrily, her fingers clawing at the front of his shirt as he ground against her. His fingers pushed higher, inching the skirt up until they brushed against the elastic of her panties.

"Lorelai?" Sookie called from outside the door, and her busy hands stilled.

Luke nipped at her exposed collarbone, his thumb gliding back and forth over her nipple as her head jerked up. "S'hat your name?"

"Yeah," she whispered, blinked to clear the fog from her mind. "Uh, be right out," she called back as he looked up.

"You okay?" Sookie asked.

"I'm fine," Lorelai answered as she pushed at Luke's shoulders, causing him to stumble back.

"Jose and Bob took off. It's late, I should probably get you back," Sookie called to her.

"Yeah, okay," Lorelai said as she quickly straightened her skirt and top. She glanced into the mirror, taking in her mussed hair and swollen lips. "Crap," she whispered as she finger combed her hair. "Crap, crap, crap. What the hell am I doing?" she muttered to herself.

She heard his sharp intake of breath and whirled to face him. "It's not you. Uh, it's me. I don't mean that like that sounds," she rambled in a harsh whisper. "I just, I don't do this," she tried to explain.

"Yeah, uh, I don't either," Luke answered gruffly.

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. You'll never know how sorry I am," she whispered as she reached for the door handle.

"I get the picture."

Lorelai paused for a moment and looked back at him. "Sorry," she said again, and then quickly ducked out of the door.

Luke moved to follow her, but stopped when she heard her say, "No, don't go in there, it's, um, filthy. Let's just go."

"I grabbed your purse," Sookie said as she held it up. "What happened to your lips?"

Lorelai touched her fingertips to her mouth. "Oh, um, allergic reaction, I think."

"Really? What are you allergic to?" Sookie asked as Lorelai hustled her toward the door.

"Uh, I don't know. What was in that kamikaze thing?"

In the ladies room at KC's bar, Luke Danes pressed one hand to the wall and the other to his stomach, trying to steady himself as the room began to reel. He dropped to his knees and promptly heaved into the toilet bowl, retching and coughing loudly.

A minute later, the ladies room door opened a crack, and Kevin peered into the tiny room. He sighed heavily as he pushed the door open wider. "Come on, big guy, let's get you home," he murmured as he hooked his hands under Luke's arms.

"Didju see that?" Luke mumbled as Kevin helped him to his feet.

"The freight train that hit you? Yeah, I saw it comin' a couple of hours ago, buddy," Kevin answered as he draped Luke's arm over his shoulders and tried to get under the bigger man's weight. "You can't keep doing this, man. No girl is worth this."

"She's worth it."

"Dude, she's gonna keep doing it to you over and over again. When are you ever gonna learn?" Kevin asked quietly.

"Prob'ly never," Luke slurred.

"Yeah, probably not. One foot in front of the other," Kevin reminded Luke as he all but dragged him out of the tiny room.

_tbc_


	2. PreExisting Conditions Covered

**A/N: My disclaimer here is that I am still as high as a kite on various decongestants. My claim to fame here is that Olivia Jane took the time to check this chapter over to be sure it was fairly coherent. Isn't she the coolest? This one takes big leaps back and forth between two points in time. Just warning you, in case you are as dizzy as I am. Smooches!**

**Pre-Existing Conditions Covered**

**April 1996**

She'd seen him around town. He was hard to miss. The backwards baseball cap was a dead giveaway.

The first time she spotted him was about six or seven months after their encounter in the bar. She and Rory had made hot chocolate and were taking a walk in the first snow of the season, recounting the glory of Rory's eighth birthday party the weekend before and speculating about Koko the Klown's ability to post bond. As they circled the gazebo, Lorelai looked up and there he was. Flannel shirt, baseball cap and scowl firmly in place, as he swept the freshly fallen snow from the steps to the old hardware store. At least, she assumed he was scowling. It was much easier for her to picture him scowling. She didn't want to remember that smile, that smile had stopped her heart for what must have been a full minute. It was better to remember the scowl. Hooking her arm through Rory's, she had led them full-circle around the gazebo and pointed them back toward the inn, claiming that she was cold and hoping she could blame the brisk wind if the pink in her cheeks didn't fade by the time they got home.

She'd seen him here and there after that, but not often. He seemed to pop up every six or eight months like clockwork, reminding her of that humiliating night at the bar, and lighting a match under her late night fantasies, just as she had gotten them to fade. There was the time that she saw him at the post office, when she took an inordinate amount of interest in the outdated FBI posters while he bought stamps. Another time, it was at that bank, where she saw him flash a ghost of that killer smile at Judy the teller, and dropped her purse; scattering the contents at her feet. When she noticed someone else stooping to help her retrieve her belongings, Lorelai held her breath as she looked up from under the curtain of her hair. The relief she felt when she saw that it was Andrew from the bookstore was only slightly tainted by the disappointment she felt when she turned and saw the guy in the flannel shirt walking out of the door.

She'd seen him around town. She seemed to have some kind of radar where that guy was concerned, and she didn't like it one bit. She saw him behind the counter of the hardware store he had apparently converted into a diner. She saw him at the occasional town meeting. But never once, in all of these sightings, did the man in the backwards baseball cap give any indication that he had seen her.

Lorelai Gilmore had come a long way in the past four years. She was older now. Wiser. More worldly. More in control of her own destiny. Or so she liked to think. Her hard work had paid off. She was a success. The years of scrimping and saving, sewing Rory's clothes on a second hand sewing machine late into the night, and her exceptional coupon clipping abilities had made it possible for her to be a homeowner. Her daughter's big blue eyes and winsome smile that had suckered Andy, the retired carpenter who served as the inn's handyman, into doing the necessary repairs to make it habitable, making her proud to be a mother. And just a month before, Mia had announced her plans to retire to California in order to be closer to her grandchildren, and named Lorelai as the Independence Inn's Executive Manager.

Like the promotion to Assistant Manager, this most recent move up the career ladder only fueled her natural ambition. Lorelai realized that as Executive Manager, she would have more flexible hours; not only giving her more time with Rory, but it would allow her the time to take the business courses she had been considering. Mia, in her usual fashion, wholeheartedly approved of the plan, and offered to front Lorelai the first semester's tuition. Lorelai, in her usual fashion, declined with a heartfelt thank you and a fierce hug; telling Mia that she had done enough already, and showing her the packet forms she had already received from Hartford Community College's financial aid department.

This new promotion, and the hefty raise that came with it, also allowed her to splurge a little. Not much, because there was still a mortgage to be paid, but a little. And Lorelai Gilmore's first real splurge? Pop Tarts. Well, not so much the Pop Tarts themselves, as the fact that they were out of Pop Tarts. Instead of waiting for the weekly trip she and Sookie made to the larger supermarket in Woodbridge, Lorelai decided to run to Doose's Market to pay forty-five cents more for the same box.

_Now this is living large_, she told herself as she grabbed a box of frosted Strawberry Pop Tarts from the shelf. _At least I'm not a complete hedonist; these have fruit-like stuff in them_. The pang of guilt that she felt at not saving those precious pennies was real and tangible. So real, that she forced herself to head for the produce section and quickly dropped three oranges into a plastic bag muttering, "No scurvy in the Gilmore household." Her hand stilled, suspended midair as she reached for a twist tie, and looked up as she heard someone approach.

The guy in the flannel shirt. The same backwards baseball cap wearing guy who had kissed the living daylights out of her nearly four years before appeared at her side. She gaped at him as he grabbed a head of lettuce from the stack, but before she could formulate the word 'Hello', he turned and stomped his way toward the check out. Twisting the paper wrapped wire around the plastic bag, she cocked her head as she inched her way toward the front of the store. She saw him slap a dollar bill down on the counter and head for the door without pause.

Taylor Doose called out, "Luke! Lettuce is one-fifteen a head now!"

The guy turned his scowl on the man in the apron, and reached into his pocket. "Tell you what, Taylor, I'll peel off the brown stuff on the outside and cut out the hard chunk in the middle and bring it back to you. We can call it even," he growled as he slapped a quarter down on the counter and then stormed out.

"Don't you want your dime?" Taylor shouted after him to no avail.

"I'll take it," Lorelai said as she placed her Pop Tarts and oranges on the counter.

"That boy," Taylor muttered as he shook his head.

"He seems like a cheerful guy," she joked, favoring Taylor with a smile.

"I tell you, that man does not have a happy bone in his body," Taylor muttered as he rang up her purchases. Shaking it off, he looked up and asked, "Did you find everything that you needed?"

"Oh yes, and then some," she said as she gestured to the oranges.

"We don't see you in here very often, Lorelai," he said leadingly.

"Oh, well, uh, Rory and I eat most of our meals at the inn," she offered lamely.

"I see. Well, I suppose that's just as good. It's important for people to support their local businesses, you know. Spending our money in Woodbridge or Litchfield doesn't help Stars Hollow's economy," he said pointedly as he bagged her groceries.

"No. You are right about that, Taylor," she answered with a grave nod.

"Can we still count on you for the Spring Fling costumes?"

"I'm in," she said with a nod. "Just let me know how many tulips you need."

"Excellent," Taylor said as he handed her the brown paper bag.

"Thanks," she said with a winning smile as she made a quick exit.

"Crap," she muttered as soon as she hit the sidewalk. "If you didn't mark everything up ten thousand percent maybe more people would shop here."

"What's that dear?" Miss Patty asked as she hurried by.

"What? Oh, nothing," Lorelai said as she drew to a halt. "How are you, Patty?"

"Oh, I'm wonderful, dear," Patty said with a sly smile.

Lorelai's eyes narrowed. "What are you up to?"

"Me? Nothing. I'm just enjoying my afternoon constitutional," she drawled as she lounged against the lamp post.

"Making good progress with that?"

"I do fine, dear, and I must say, the scenery around here is exceptional," she said as she leered comically at the window to the diner.

Lorelai turned and found herself looking directly into the flannel guy's scowling face. She stared back at him, waiting for a flicker of recognition, or maybe even a hint of that smile. Instead, his scowl deepened as he shook his head in disdain and turned away, disappearing into the next room.

Lorelai dropped her gaze to the sidewalk as Patty sighed heavily. "I suppose the show is over, darling. He'll hide out in that kitchen of his until he thinks it's safe to come out."

Lorelai swallowed hard, that familiar rush of humiliation warring with a fresh batch of indignation and setting her cheeks aflame. "I need to get back to the inn. See you later, Patty," she called as she rushed away.

"Goodbye, sweetheart. Kiss that precious girl of yours for me," Patty answered as she pushed away from the lamp post.

**March 2001**

Lorelai wandered through the crowd with no particular destination in mind. _Rory is off nuzzling meatballs and celebrating three whole months of puppy love, and I am climbing out of my old bedroom window to escape incredibly boring actuary. What is wrong with this picture? _Click, click, click. The whir of a rapidly closing shutter caught her attention and she turned. Rachel stood off to the side, her camera pressed to her eye as her finger pressed the shutter release in rapid succession.

_Rachel. Elle Macpherson- pretty-Rachel. Rachel, the girl that broke Luke's heart._ Just the sight of her made Lorelai's own heart clench. _She is beautiful. Totally Luke's type too. If Luke has a type_, she thought as she watched Rachel blend seamlessly into the milling crowd. _She fits. She fits here. She fits him. _

Lorelai turned toward the blazing bonfire, clutching her cup of non-Luke's coffee in her gloved hand as she lost herself in the flames. She saw him there, standing on the other side of the counter, handing the cup of fresh coffee to her. She saw him there, standing in that darkened apartment, confusion in his eyes and worry etched into his face. She saw him there, shifting from foot to foot outside of her door, holding a container loaded with mashed potatoes. She saw him there, willingly pinned beneath her as his hands roamed freely over her body; his eyes locked on hers, his lips curved into that devastating smile.

She glanced down at the cup filled with imposter coffee and sighed as she closed her eyes.

_I should be happy for him. A real friend would be happy for him. This is what he wanted. This is what he has hoped for._ Lorelai opened her eyes and turned on her heel, her eyes scanning the crowd, knowing that if Rachel was here, Luke probably wouldn't be far away.

**April 1996**

_Good God, all of a sudden she's everywhere_. Luke stomped into the kitchen and tossed his order pad onto the counter, pressing the heels of his hand to his eyes and trying to block out the image of those wide blue eyes staring back at him. _Years. I went years without seeing her, and now I can't even turn around without stepping on her_. _She's like a bad penny, she just keeps turning up. Where the hell was she when I wanted to see her?_

For two months following that fateful night, Luke had haunted KC's bar night after night, nursing a single beer through the early part of the evening, and wanting to keep his wits about him in case she came in again. She never did. It got to the point where Kevin would start trying to hustle him out of the bar at ten, knowing that was the point where Luke would give up for the night and call for the Jack Daniels. And he blamed her and Jack Daniels for the fact that one night he had been blitzed enough to chat up another chatty brunette with bright blue eyes, leading to his next disastrous attempt at a relationship.

He and Anna Nardini had not been a good match; any fool who wasn't wearing beer goggles could have seen that. But he didn't. All he saw was another girl with lustrous brown hair and blue eyes that sparkled when she smiled. All he saw was someone who seemed to want him. At least, she did for a while. It worked out okay, though. All he wanted was someone who was not Rachel. They limped along for a few months, finally calling it quits after another seemingly endless dinner that consisted of eating substandard food at a restaurant he never wanted try in the first place. The screaming toddler at the next table had only been a convenient excuse to escape.

And escape he did, from Anna and from the world. Luke buried himself in his work, opening the diner before dawn and closing it down only when the town rolled up its sidewalks at night. He avoided KC's and sipped his single bottle beer each night in the privacy of his dimly lit apartment, watching the world roll by on the CNN ticker. He managed to carry on quite nicely that way for a year and then two. And then, Rachel blew back into town.

He was skeptical, at first. She was apologetic, as usual. He was reluctant to jump, resisting her attempts at reconciliation. She dove in head first, wearing him down by strapping on an apron and proving herself indispensible. Before he knew it, she was back in his life and back in his bed. Within weeks, he wondered how he had managed without her, and within two months, she was gone again.

He knew he shouldn't have been surprised. He knew she wouldn't stay. He'd hoped. He had dared to hope for so much more than a hastily scrawled note about a National Geographic gig in the Congo. He had hoped he would have rated somewhere above snapping pictures of apes or gazelles or whatever the hell it was that they had there. But, in the end, he knew he never would. As much as she loved him, and he knew that she did, he knew that she would never be content to be tied to this town; or worse yet, to his apron strings.

And so, Rachel was gone, and _she_ was back again. The girl with the weird name he couldn't quite remember. The girl with the laser beam eyes and the laugh that still echoed in his head. _Amazing how she always shows up when Rachel leaves_, he thought sullenly. _Like one of those crows in the movies. A harbinger of doom, that's what she is,_ he thought as he scraped the grill. _Well, she's not going to be my doom. Been there, done that, got the postcards to prove it._

**March 2001**

Luke looked up as Rachel dropped down onto the bench beside him. "You getting some good stuff?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, the firelight really changes people, ya know?" she asked, her voice soft and dreamy. "Makes them seem happier, freer, all troubles of the world completely gone."

Luke smirked at her typically optimistic assessment. "I don't think that's the firelight. I think it's the Founders Day party punch they've been selling."

"Oh yeah, that stuff is good," she said with a knowing nod.

Luke chuckled softly and then looked down at his gloved hands. "Okay, at some point, are you gonna tell me what you're doing here?" he asked bluntly, not willing to give himself the opportunity to wuss out.

"I'm putting more film in my camera."

"Rachel."

She sighed. "What? I told you, I was at the airport, now I'm here."

"Oh well sure, when you put it like that," he said sarcastically.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't sound all that happy to see me," she said warily.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you have a tendency to show up and then leave, quite suddenly. One of your more charming attributes," he muttered under his breath.

"So, you're not happy to see me?" she joked. When he shot her that knowing look, she wilted. "Luke, I don't know what I'm doing here. I just missed you. I wanted to see you. I don't know what else to say."

Luke inhaled deeply, the sincerity in her voice slicing through his defenses. "I missed you too."

Rachel nodded, accepting his simple statement as the best that she could hope for at this time. "So, since we're both being blunt, what's the deal with Lorelai?"

Luke's head jerked up. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Lorelai, the lady who runs the inn, the one you've told me absolutely nothing about, and been very careful to leave out of every story, anecdote, or gossip about the town," she said leadingly.

He had to chuckle and she knew him too well. "There is no deal with Lorelai. We're friends," he said gruffly.

"For now?"

"Yes," he answered as honestly as he could.

"And in the future?"

"Well, Lorelai is, she's just uh…I don't know. I mean, at time it seems like, I don't know," he trailed off, knowing that he hadn't really said anything at all, and that Rachel knew him well enough to know how many volumes that spoke. He glanced over at her, soaking up the warmth of that familiar smile. "But I am happy to see you," he said, his voice soft and raspy.

"Good," she answered with a nod. "I'm gonna get some of that party punch. You want some?"

"That stuff will kill you."

"Oh Luke, some things never change."

As he watched her walk away, he knew in his heart that some things never would. He loved Rachel, and Rachel loved him. But the one thing that would certainly never change was the fact that she didn't want to be here, and he never wanted to be anywhere else. In a way, it was easier, knowing that. There was no guess work involved. No sleepless nights wondering about how she felt about him, or what she wanted out of life. In that way, he knew that he and Rachel were a good match. _What you see is what you get. Unlike some other people, who only let you see what they want you to see_.

He jumped, startled from his thoughts as Lorelai dropped into the spot Rachel had just vacated.

"Hey. Where the hell's the fire department when you need them?" she asked by way of greeting.

Luke shifted away from her slightly, disconcerted by her mere proximity. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be in Hartford?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"Climbed out the window."

"Okay."

"That's it. You're not curious why?"

"No."

"That's what I love about you," she murmured as she turned to stare at the bonfire.

Luke bit his lip, letting her glib statement roll off his back, knowing that there were plenty more where that one came from. "Hey, how long you been here?"

"A little while."

"Did you see Harry and Taylor get into a fist fight?"

Lorelai gasped. "No! Aww! How did I miss that? I'm so bummed!"

Luke chuckled, amused by her genuine enthusiasm for violence and mayhem. "It was good."

Lorelai nodded, looking away to keep from being caught in the tractor beam of his smile. "So, where's Rachel?"

Luke stiffened slightly, rubbing his hands together nervously as he said, "Oh, she's a founder's party punch junkie."

"God, even the nice girls aren't safe."

Luke nodded. "Yeah. She's been running around here taking all kinds of pictures."

"She's having a good time."

"I guess so. I hope so," he added, trying to sound more upbeat.

"So?"

"Yes?"

"So, what's the haps with you two?" she asked, starting to lose her grip on her patience.

"The haps? Well, let's see. What is the haps?" he said slowly.

"I mean, like, you know, what's going. . ." she started to prod.

"I know what you meant by the haps," he snarled.

"Okay, well you're repeating it like a thousand times," she complained, letting go of her patience.

"I was pondering," he huffed.

"Well you ponder really slowly," she said mockingly.

"If I did it fast it wouldn't be pondering. Pondering by nature is a slow connotation," he snapped.

"Okay. Fine, fine," she conceded.

"It's okay."

"Is she staying?" she asked bluntly.

"I don't know."

"Do you want her to?"

"I don't know," he answered as honestly as he could.

"She seems to really like you," she said with a soft smile.

Luke nodded. "Yeah she does, but she doesn't have the greatest attention span," he said, his voice faintly condemning.

"Yeah," Lorelai said, dropping her eyes to the coffee cup cradled in her hands.

"But she is here," he mused, watching carefully to gauge her reaction.

Lorelai nodded slowly, forcing her lips to curve into a small smile as she looked over at him. "Yes, she is."

"I don't know. You spend a lot of time debating things, ya know? Is it right, is it wrong, or should I do this, should I do that. I mean, sometimes you should just jump in and take a shot," he rambled, still watching her closely. When he didn't see even a flicker of emotion on her face, he smiled grimly and said, "What's the worst that can happen? She left before, I lived. Maybe this time," he murmured wryly, rolling his eyes at himself.

Lorelai hazarded a glance in his direction. "I think that's really great," she said softly.

"You do?" he asked, unable to squelch the surprise in his tone.

"Yeah."

"Thanks," he answered, still trying to puzzle her out.

"You're welcome."

Luke gave up, shaking his head slightly at her polite response. "Well, I guess I'm gonna go check up on Rachel."

"That's nice," she murmured as he moved to get up.

"What?"

"That you have somebody you can go check up on. That's nice," she commented mildly.

"Yeah it is. Unless she's completely drunk and throwing up," he said dryly.

Lorelai's smile was a pale facsimile of the ones that usually lit his mornings and nights. "Still nice," she insisted.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, bumping her leg with his knuckles.

"Tomorrow," she confirmed, her eyes following him as he ambled away.

**April 1996**

The problem with raising a precocious kid is that no matter how precocious they are, they are still a kid and there are some things you can't tell them. _Rory, honey, we can't go try out that cool looking diner across the square because Mommy sucked face with the diner guy in a bar four years ago, and now she is too embarrassed to face him_, she thought with a smirk.

"Okay, maybe there aren't any pancakes on the menu per se," she admitted slowly. "But there is Chinese food and that means Moo Shu. And Moo Shu, Grasshopper, means there are indeed pancakes at Al's Pancake World. They are simply Chinese pancakes," Lorelai justified, gesturing to the menu with a triumphant wave of her hand.

"Okay, but the next time we get to go out to eat we're going to the diner place," Rory said, using the patented Gilmore pout against her mother.

"It's a diner, what's the big deal?" Lorelai asked defensively.

"Lane says the food there is really good."

"How would she know? She lives on tofu and wheat germ."

"She knows because Luke's is a Mrs. Kim approved location, and sometimes Luke takes pity on Lane and slips her a few fries."

"Well, if it's Mrs. Kim approved that's enough to keep me away," Lorelai grumbled as she perused the menu.

"I still say we're going," Rory insisted, exhibiting the stubborn streak that came in the bundle as the pout.

"I say we'll go there when you get a job and you can actually treat me to my birthday dinner," Lorelai muttered, knowing that sooner or later, she'd have to give in.

**March 2001**

Lorelai blinked, slowly bringing the blazing bonfire back into focus. Biting her lower lip, she looked away from the dancing flames, letting her eyes adjust to the dark as she tried to pick out familiar faces in the crowd. Babette and Morey. Sookie and Jackson. _The world seems to be turning into one giant ark. We're all moving two by two._ She scanned the revelers, desperately seeking out the other singles she knew would be there. _Kirk, Patty, Taylor, this is the company I keep,_ she thought with a tiny wince.

She kept going, her gaze dancing over couple after couple until it landed on single shadow standing alone. She felt his gaze on here before she could even make out his face. "Luke," she whispered, her lips barely forming the name. Her eyes met his and she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her body, as he pulled his hands from his jeans pockets.

It was there, and then, it was gone. Luke turned away as Rachel wrapped both of her arms around one of his, pressing her body close as she whispered in his ear. That jolt that sizzled through her veins just a fraction of a second before turned a sharp twist of a knife in her gut as he smiled at her, warming the wayward photographer with the full wattage of his smile and putting the bonfire to shame.

**April 1996**

There she was again, rushing across the square with that little girl trailing behind her. Luke tossed the rag he had been using to wipe down the counter onto the shelf below it, and turned away from the window.

"I'm tellin' ya, the girl is a hoot! So smart!" Babette crowed to Miss Patty.

"It's a good thing she is smart, because honey, the girl has no rhythm," Patty said, shaking her head sadly.

"You need anything?" Luke asked gruffly.

"Nothing that's on the menu," Patty purred. "Care to show me your specials?"

Luke rolled his eyes and began to bus the table next to them, careful to do so from the opposite side, far away from Patty's pincers.

"I tell ya, that Lorelai, she's amazing," Babette said with an affectionate smile. Luke's head popped up the moment he heard the name. "Raisin' that baby all on her own, buying that house." She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know how she does it; she's barely more than a baby herself!"

"She looks young, but she has to be more than thirty," Patty speculated.

"No! She's twenty-eight! That's what I'm tellin' ya. She just turned twenty-eight today! Rory was eleven on her last birthday, which means she'll be twelve this year!"

"Usually works that way," Luke muttered under his breath. When the two ladies turned to look at him, he picked up the stack of plates and mumbled, "Twelve comes after eleven."

Patty turned her attention back to her friend. "I knew she was young when she had her, but that means…"

"She was sixteen! I did the math," Babette said with a shrug.

Luke grabbed the rag and a spray bottle and hurried back to the table as he heard Patty ask, "Where's the father?"

"I dunno. I don't think he's around much. They don't really talk about him," Babette reported, her disappointment in not having more complete information evident in her tone.

"Sixteen," Patty murmured thoughtfully.

"I know. That's one way to grow up real fast, huh?" Babette commiserated.

They fell silent for a moment, and Luke wandered away, absently straightening napkin dispensers and salt shakers as he passed through the diner. _That's her kid. Wow. Not a little sister or a cousin or something. She had a kid at sixteen._ He placed the spray bottle and rag carefully back on the shelf and then leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. _So, the mystery girl has a kid. Not so shocking, right? I mean, she lit up like a firecracker when I kissed her,_ he reasoned. A furrow creased his brow, forcing the corners of his mouth down into a deep scowl. _A single mom with a twelve your old kid._

Luke blinked a few times, coming in for a landing in the land of now as Babette approached the counter with their ticket in hand.

"How're you doin', Doll?" she asked with an annoyingly sympathetic little smile on her face.

"I'm fine," he snapped as he snatched the ticket from her fingers.

"Ya know, the best thing you can do is just dive right back in there," she said with an emphatic nod.

"I'm not diving into anything."

"Luke, you're far too handsome a man to waste your life pining away after Rachel," Patty chimed in.

"I'm not pining."

"I can introduce you to my new neighbor!" Babette exclaimed."Gorgeous girl! Just gorgeous!"

"I don't need you to introduce me to anyone," Luke growled as he counter out their change.

"It'll do you good to get back out there and break a few hearts for yourself," Patty said with a nod.

"Yeah!" Babette agreed enthusiastically. "Er, wait, if you wanna go breakin' hearts I don't wanna set you up with Lorelai, then," she said with troubled frown. "The girl's had a hard enough time on her own. She needs a good man."

"Luke is a good man," Patty argued.

"Yeah, but if he's gonna break her heart…" Babette began.

"I'm not breakin' anybody's heart, and you're not setting me up with anyone," Luke said firmly, cutting them off.

"Aw, what a shame," Babette moaned, deflating right before his eyes.

"It's a waste, that's what it is," patty said with a sniff, casting one more lascivious look in Luke's direction.

"Goodnight," Luke called facetiously.

Babette turned back and smiled at him affectionately. "Night, Doll."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Patty said as she ushered her friend out of the door.

Luke blew out a breath, and leaned heavily on the cash register as he watched them go. He closed his eyes for a moment, reminding himself repeatedly that they meant well. When he opened his eyes, he saw that girl, Lorelai, and the young girl who he now knew was her daughter passing by the diner. He stood up straight when the younger girl pointed to the door and tugged on her mother's arm. But then, his shoulders slumped when he saw Lorelai tug back and wave a bag filled with video cases in front of her daughter's eyes like a hypnotist.

**March 2001**

She kept staring at him. He could feel her eyes following him, but whenever he looked up, she was looking at the fire. He stood too close to it. The shooting flames warmed his face as the sparks from the crumbling pyre died at his feet. Still, he couldn't get warm. She was warped, her body undulating in the waves of heat radiated by the fire, her face blurring and melting before his very eyes. He squeezed them shut, trying to block out the smoke and haze, but all he could see was her face blurring and softening as she climaxed beneath him.

He pried his eyes open and stepped back from the fire, blinking rapidly as he wiped away the soot and smoke that made them water. He knew he should be looking for Rachel, but he couldn't look for Rachel when he felt Lorelai's gaze following his every step. _Damn it, why does she keep looking at me? She doesn't want me, she's made that perfectly clear. And if she doesn't want me to have anyone else, then tough shit. Did I say a word when she started dating Rory's teacher? No. She can't say a damn thing to me now,_ he told himself angrily.

Luke looked around, desperately trying to pick Rachel out of the crowd, but suddenly drawing a blank on what she even looked like. He gritted his teeth and turned back to the fire, glaring accusingly at Lorelai through the leaping flames. This time, she stared back at him. He felt that pull, that inexorable tug, reeling him in. He dug his heels into the ground, shoving his hands into his pockets as he resisted the temptation to leap into the fire, just to get her attention.

He stared at her, his jaw clenched and rigid, only loosening as he saw her lips move. He felt a jolt of recognition, though he didn't know exactly which of her thousands of words she had whispered. He stepped back slightly, pulling his hands from his pockets and tried to force his feet to move forward, and not back.

He felt and impact, and jumped when Rachel wrapped her arms around his, clinging to him as she swung her camera aside and pressed his arm to her breasts.

"I missed you, Luke," Rachel whispered in his ear, her breath reeking of grain alcohol. "That's why I can never stay away. I need you too much," she murmured as she nuzzled his ear.

Luke closed his eyes for a moment, basking in the warmth of someone knowing that he was needed. He turned to her and smiled. "Can we get out of here now?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

**April 1996**

He stared at her every time she passed by the diner. She could feel him staring, but yet, every time she looked up, he looked right through her as if she wasn't even there. It was irking her. It was more than irking her, it was pissing her off. She knew that she wasn't a dog. Hell, she knew that plenty of guys considered her hot. Heck, even a twelve year old boy in Rory's class had told her how hot her mom was. But this guy? This guy who once shoved his tongue down her throat looked right through her like she was a pane of glass.

That didn't settle well with Lorelai Gilmore. She could take some condescension. She could handle snooty, uppity and just plain ugly; but the one thing she absolutely could not abide was being ignored. It took a week. Well, six days really. In the six days since she and Rory whooped it up at her fancy Al's Pancake World birthday dinner, she had passed by the diner twice a day, every day, just to see if he would somehow acknowledge her. She knew he saw her. Hell, half of the time, he was staring out at the square as if it held the answers to the entire universe. She knew he saw her, because she looked right at him and he looked right through her without even the vaguest flicker of recognition. And if there was one thing in this world that she absolutely did not want to be, to this guy or to anyone, it would be forgettable.

That's why thirty minutes after her last pass, she was back. Bells rang out merrily as she skidded to a halt inside the suddenly packed diner. "Whoa," she muttered as she found herself casting about looking for an open space and coming up empty.

What she did see were colorful oversized mugs holding vats of dark, rich coffee. The scent of it hung heavy in the air, easily beating out frying onions and the heavenly aroma of hot, fresh fries and making her mouth water. She saw him emerge from what she assumed was the kitchen, and snatch the pot filled with black gold from the burner. He steadily worked his way along the counter, refilling mug after mug until finally depositing the pot on the back counter and pulling an order pad from the waistband of his jeans.

"Can I get some coffee?" she blurted, her voice cutting above the din.

"I'm with someone right now," he answered without looking up.

Lorelai inched closer, trying to line herself up behind his current customer in an attempt to capture his attention. He whirled away from the customer and from her; tearing the order from the pad and tucking the pencil he held above his ear before jamming that lucky order pad back into his jeans.

"Hey," she called after him as he slapped the order ticket down in the window.

"Order up, Caesar!" he called out. He didn't hesitate as he brushed past her, intent on making another round of refills.

"Hey, please? I really need some of that coffee," she tried again.

"Wait your turn," he snarled without even turning around.

Lorelai's jaw dropped. She watched in horror as the pot was rapidly depleted, emptying into everyone's mugs but hers.

"You don't understand. I'm having a hell of a day. This is my first week without Mia there, and Sookie has already scorched an oven hood beyond recognition, Michel is going through room twelve with a tube of superglue because the Bathrobe Bandits are checking in this afternoon, and Taylor just informed me that I need to make thirty-two tulip costumes by next Wednesday. So you can see, I clearly need the caffeine more than these people do," she rambled, chasing him in a zigzag around the crowded diner.

He turned and glared at her. "You're being annoying. Sit down, shut up, and I'll get to you when I get to you," he snapped.

Lorelai stared after him as he walked away, ducking behind the formica counter that clearly marked his fortress of solitude. She hurried over to the crowded counter, elbowing her way between two burly older men and flashing them each a brilliant smile. "Excuse me for just a moment," she murmured to them. She watched as the guy in the baseball cap jammed another filter filled with fresh grounds into the machine and placed a clean pot on the burner.

"Hey, uh, Duke? When's your birthday?" she asked, spying the newspaper the man on her right tucked under the edge of his plate.

"What?" Luke growled without turning around.

"When's your birthday?" she asked again. "Mind if I borrow this?" she whispered to the man on her right.

"Not at all, girly," Sy answered, grinning as he saw the tips of Luke's ears turning red.

"What's it to you?" Luke asked, feigning disinterest as he hustled to clear empty plates.

Lorelai grinned as the man on her left vacated his seat. She slid onto the stool and opened the thin newspaper. "When is it?" she persisted.

"November," he grumbled as he began ringing up tickets on the ancient cash register.

"November what?" she asked.

"Why do you want to know?" he argued, his eyes finally flickering in her direction.

"November 3rd," Sy volunteered. When both Lorelai and Luke turned to look at him, he shrugged and said, "It was election day. Your old man was givin' me a hard time about backing Goldwater when your mom called to tell him she was in labor."

Lorelai nodded once as Luke turned his attention back to the till. "That makes you a Scorpio," the murmured as she scanned the horoscopes. She began tearing the edge of the paper and then looked up at Sy. "Oh, sorry. You didn't need these did you?" she asked, a becoming blush tingeing her cheeks.

"Knock yourself out, girly," Sy said with a grin, sitting back to watch the fireworks as Luke shot him a scathing look.

Lorelai smiled as she tore the horoscope from the paper and then folded it neatly before handing it back to Sy. She pulled a pen from her purse and began to print tiny letters on the scrap of newsprint. Sy craned his neck, cursing his need for bifocals under his breath as she slid the horoscope across the counter.

Luke slapped his hand down on top of it, causing Lorelai to jump back and Sy to chuckle as he scooped it from the counter. His brow knit as he read the tiny print written in purple pen. His eyes flashed to hers, and there for a split second, she saw that tiny spark of recognition before he managed to smother it with a smirk.

"Promise?" he asked as he reached for the coffee pot and a carry out cup.

"I never make promises I can't keep," she said with a satisfied smile.

Luke pressed a lid onto the cup and slid it across the counter. "There you go."

Lorelai grinned as she slapped a dollar bill onto the counter and slid it across in exchange for the cup. She pointed to the newsprint still curled in his hand, and batted her eyelashes. "Keep that. Put it in your wallet. Someday it'll bring you good luck."

He snorted. "Ya think?"

"Count on it." She looked around at the packed diner. "This your place?"

"Yeah."

She took a sip of her hard won coffee, her eyes widening appreciatively at first taste. She blinked rapidly as she took a second sip just to be sure her senses weren't playing tricks on her. When she looked up, she found him watching her, his eyebrows raised and a smug smile tugging at his lips.

Lorelai toasted him with the cup as she slid from the stool and backed toward the door, unwilling to be the one to concede this unspoken staring contest. "Duke, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," she said challengingly.

"It's Luke," he barked.

Lorelai grinned as she reached for the door handle, knowing he'd never be able to ignore her again. She opened the door, smiling as the bells jingled happily, and preparing to make her escape. "See you later, Duke!"

**March 2001**

Lorelai trudged slowly home through the silent streets, the poseur cup of coffee still clutched tightly in her hand. She pushed back the niggling tremors of jealousy that simmered just beneath her tingling skin. She closed her eyes and saw Rachel whispering into his ear, Luke tilting his head toward her, welcoming the intimacy of whatever it was she said to him.

Tiny moments, moments that had been building for months, sending her scurrying out of his reach. His arms wrapping around her, bags of ice cold against her back and bottom as she all but melted into his arms. That moment, that split second just before Mrs. Kim came barging in, when she thought that he would finally take that step that would change everything forever. His lips parting as their eyes met behind that counter, and the almost unbearable knowledge of how they felt as they slid over her skin. That utterly unbearable moment when the hurt and pain flashed in his eyes as she stood in her pajamas begging for his forgiveness in the early morning light.

But that moment proved it, like no other moment could. She could never be enough for him. They could never be enough for him because she could never be _good_ enough for him. _And no matter what he says, no matter how much he protests; he knows what he wants. I know what he wants. He wants Rachel. And she's back. Good for him, _she thought as she let the front door slam behind her.

Lorelai stood in the foyer for a moment, staring at the unblinking light on her answering machine. She chewed the inside of her cheek as she dropped her purse on the table and reached for the cordless phone. _Good for him_, she thought again as she dialed a number she had never let herself completely forget.

_tbc_


	3. Additional Coverage May Be Available

**Additional Coverage May Be Available**

**March 2001**

She was a hypocrite and she knew it. She stood there in the foyer, stroking her baby's soft hair and murmuring words of consolation, but she didn't even know if they were the right words or not. Rory was heartbroken. Lorelai knew as she had never known before that she had never been heartbroken. She had never dared to give her heart to anyone; therefore, it couldn't be broken.

She tucked her daughter into bed, her movements slow and lethargic, weighed down by the certain knowledge that she was no real good to her. This wasn't a

boo-boo she could soothe with a spritz of Bactine and a healing kiss. This was way beyond her personal frame of reference. Oh, she knew she could formulate a plan. She was always good at thinking on her feet. She'd throw out a few platitudes, and offer some lame advice, drawing on her limited knowledge of such things as best she could.

But, a bruised ego and a vague sense of lingering disappointment were the best she had to offer. She had guarded herself well, holding every man that crossed her path at arm's length. Lorelai closed Rory's bedroom door and crept away, purposefully looking away as she passed the telephone, and cursing the cowardice that had rendered her completely ineffectual.

Lorelai changed into her pajamas, her muscles leaden and unresponsive as she stumbled through the motions of her bedtime routine. And as she crawled between the sheets, she didn't think about what she would have said to Max had he answered his phone. Instead, she thought of all the things she never said to Luke before she watched him walk away.

_You have no idea what an amazing guy you are. Rachel has no idea how lucky she is to have a man like you love her. I'm sorry I kept you away. Thank you for taking care of us, for caring about us. I wish I could tell you how important you are to me. I wish things were different. I wish I was different._

**April 1997**

Twenty-nine. For some reason, Lorelai seemed to be having a harder time grasping the fact that she was turning twenty-nine then she did with realizing that twenty-nine meant that she was almost thirty. In a weird way, she wished she was thirty already, that way she could have kissed her twenties goodbye without a backwards glance. But twenty-nine meant that she had a full year to think about how lame her twenties had actually been.

Not that she hadn't accomplished anything, she had accomplished a lot. Rory was happy and healthy and thriving. They had a house. A home that they could call their own, and that Lorelai had made sure was a comfortable reflection of her and her daughter and the life that she chose to lead. Her career had exceeded her own nebulous expectations. When her twenties began, she aspired to becoming Head of Housekeeping. Now, as her twenties drew to an end, she was the Executive Manager of the whole enchilada. And recently, she and Sookie had begun talking, just talking; about how cool it would be to one day open their own inn. And it would be cool. Someday.

But, Lorelai couldn't help setting all of that aside as she tried to come to terms with where she was in the here and now. _Here I am, facing the end of my twenties, my thirties just looming there, staring at me; and I'm practically a virgin. Okay, that might be stretching it a little, but I could apply to any number of area convents. Do they take non-Catholics? I mean, Episcopalians are close enough, right? Like Catholic-lite,_ she thought as she kicked a small stone along the sidewalk.

She tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat and looked up at the town square. The twinkle lights that outlined the gazebo were doing their job, challenging the stars that shone in the clear spring sky above. She smiled, allowing herself to be drawn to the weather worn structure as she had from the moment she first stepped foot in this town. Standing in the center of the gazebo, Lorelai turned in a slow circle, drinking in the sight of the town, her town.

She loved this town. She loved the way it embraced her and the way the slightly kooky denizens took to her Rory. Rory. That bright, beautiful little girl held this tiny town in the palm of her hand. It wasn't that she was the prettiest or the smartest girl in town, although in Lorelai's book she was. It was that shy sweetness that was quintessentially Rory. Lorelai could see it. She knew that her daughter possessed the quiet calm she could never quite find in herself, and it drew people to her. They liked having Rory around, and she didn't even have to say a word, and a tiny little part of Lorelai envied that.

Her eyes drifted toward the diner, as they so often did. Lorelai sank down onto the bench, recalling the day she recognized the raw power that her baby could wield.

It was a Thursday, not much different from any other Thursday. That particular Thursday fell about six months after she first stepped foot in Luke's diner, and about five months and three weeks after she gave in and finally introduced Rory to Luke's and Duke himself.

She had driven all the way to Hartford for her night class, only to find a note taped to the door informing her that class had been cancelled. When she got back to Stars Hollow, she came home to an empty house. Setting off on foot, Lorelai headed for the square, certain that she would find her baby girl either in the library or ensconced at a pre-revolutionary table in the cluttered antique shop. When the library proved to be devoid of Rory, Lorelai hurried down the steps and beat a path toward Kim's Antiques.

As she passed the diner, she happened to glance in, unable to stop herself, as usual. But instead of sharing a smirk or a snarl with her favorite object of torment, Lorelai spotted Rory sitting at a table in the corner, surrounded by open textbooks. She stopped dead in her tracks and gaped at the startling scene.

"What are you doing here?" Luke asked, jolting her from her stupor.

Lorelai turned, snapping her mouth shut as she took in the Doose's Market bag tucked in his arm. "What's Rory doing here?" she countered, pointing to the window.

"Studying, eating all my pie," he answered with a shrug.

"Pie? She doesn't have any money," Lorelai said, panic setting in as she began to pat her jeans pockets to see if she had any money on her.

"Don't worry about it, she works it off," he told her. "Aren't you supposed to be in class tonight?"

"Huh?"

"It's Thursday, shouldn't you be in Hartford?" Luke persisted.

"Class was cancelled," she said slowly. "How do you know about that?"

"Rory said you have class on Tuesday and Thursday nights, that's why she comes here."

"She's been coming here?"

"You didn't know?"

"She didn't tell me. I thought she was hanging out at the Kim's. What do you mean she 'works it off'?"

Luke shifted uncomfortably as he glanced through the window at Rory, realizing that he was stuck between a rock and a very concerned mother. "She came in one night a few weeks ago offering to sweep the floors in exchange for pie and some coffee. Something about flax seed muffins and letting them soak in tea before you can bite into them."

"So, you let her?"

"I gave her pie and milk. I draw the line on the coffee thing, she's too young," he told her as he stared at her pointedly.

"And she sweeps your floors?"

Luke shook his head. "I don't sweep until closing. I told her not to worry about it, but she insists on refilling the napkins and salt and pepper shakers once in a while."

"I'm so sorry she's bugging you, I had no idea…"

"She's not bugging me," he cut her off abruptly. "She's studying and not bothering anyone. She's fine."

"But she shouldn't be coming here. I mean, this is your business and she can't just…"

"She's fine," he said firmly. "She's not bothering me and she's not trying to choke down muffins that would probably reconstitute themselves in her colon. It's fine if she hangs out here."

"I make sure she has dinner at the inn before I leave." Lorelai couldn't help the defensive edge in her voice.

"It's just pie."

"I'll give you some money," Lorelai said quickly. "I mean, not right now because I don't have any with me, but I'll get some."

"Don't worry about it. I had the pie anyway."

"But that's pie you could be selling," she argued.

"I'm done talking about this," Luke grumbled as he turned and climbed the steps to the diner. "You comin' in?" he asked impatiently.

"Oh, uh, yeah."

Once inside, Lorelai scurried over to Rory's table as Luke placed the Doose's bag on the counter and reached for a coffee pot. "Uh, hey, do you have squatter's rights here or something?" she asked as she cast a nervous glance over her shoulder.

Rory jumped guiltily. "Mom! What are you doing here?"

"My class was cancelled," Lorelai explained as she slipped into a chair. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Uh, I was," Rory stammered.

"Coffee," Luke said as he placed a mug in front of Lorelai. "Milk," he announced as he placed a glass in front of Rory. "Pie will be out in a minute."

"Uh, thanks, Duke," Lorelai said as she flashed him a quick smile.

"It's Luke," he grumbled as he moved away.

"His name is Luke. Why can't you just call him Luke?" Rory asked, a blush rising in her cheeks.

"I thought it was Duke," Lorelai answered with a shrug, frowning as she picked up her coffee mug, slightly disturbed by Rory's shifting allegiances.

"You know his name is Luke and he's really nice, Mom. He lets me study here, and I don't have to listen to Mrs. Kim go on and on about the wages of sin," Rory told her pointedly.

Lorelai sighed as she fidgeted with the edge of one of Rory's color coded folders. "I get it, Sweets, but this is his business. You can't just hang out here mooching pie off of the guy, and I can't afford…" she trailed off as Luke appeared at her elbow holding two slices of pie. "Oh, thank you," she murmured, jerking her arm back as his brushed against it.

"And here," Luke said as he pulled a worn paperback out from under his arm and placed it on the table. "Not your usual stuff, but I think you'll like it," he added gruffly and then quickly moved away.

Lorelai and Rory both stared down at the well-read copy of Larry McMurtry's _Lonesome Dove _for a moment. Rory looked up at the puzzled expression on her mother's face and said, "I loaned him _The Last of the Mohicans _last week."

"Oh." Lorelai sat back and picked up her fork, scraping the pointed tines over the latticed crust that topped her slice of pie. "So, uh, Luke doesn't mind you being here?" she asked quietly, looking over her shoulder to be sure the man wasn't hovering close enough to hear the use of his proper name.

"I try to help out," Rory said defensively. "And I don't ask for the pie. I mean, I did the first time, but he just brings it to me now."

"That's very nice of him."

Rory glanced over at the counter. "Listen, I know you don't like him," she began.

"That's not true! I like him," Lorelai said indignantly.

"You call him Duke and you mock him mercilessly," Rory said flatly.

"That's friendly banter! I don't give just anyone a nickname," she argued.

"You named your battery powered toothbrush 'Shakes the Clown,'" Rory reminded her.

"And I am awfully fond of that toothbrush. My teeth have never felt so clean," Lorelai insisted. "You notice that I've never named the water heater. Stupid water heater," she muttered as she took a sip of her coffee.

"Maybe Andy can look at it one more time before they move to Florida," Rory said sympathetically.

"No, I'll call someone," Lorelai assured her. "We just need to limp through to payday," she murmured as she cut off a hunk of pie with her fork. She popped it into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "This isn't blueberry," she commented.

"Boysenberry," Luke corrected as he cleared the table behind them.

"It's good," she told him, half turning in her chair.

"Of course it is," he answered with a smirk. Swaggering slightly, he carried a stack of plates toward the kitchen.

"Oh course it is," Lorelai mimicked under her breath. "He's so smug."

Rory grinned. "When you can make a pie this good, you deserve to be smug."

"Amen, sister," Lorelai conceded as she dug in.

After finishing their pie, Rory collected her books as Lorelai approached the counter. "Done?" Luke asked as he looked up from the stack of receipts he was sorting.

"Yeah, uh, is it okay if I settle up with you tomorrow?" she asked tentatively.

"Don't worry about it. Consider it a celebration of freedom," he said dryly.

Lorelai leaned on the counter and looked up at him as she spoke quietly. "Listen, are you sure you don't mind Rory hanging out here?"

"I'm sure," he answered gruffly.

"If you want to run a tab for her, I'm good for it. It may take me a decade or two to pay off, the way she's been eating lately," she added with a rueful laugh.

Luke put the receipts down and leveled his eyes on her. "I'm fine with it. It's better than having her home alone, right?"

Lorelai blinked, searching for the hidden note of censure she was sure must be lurking behind his words, but only able to parse out the sincerity in his tone. "Thank you," she said softly.

"She's a nice kid. Quiet. Smart," he said with a nod.

"Yeah, she is," Lorelai agreed, smiling at his succinct assessment of her daughter.

"I like her."

Lorelai's smile grew as she basked in the truth of his simple statement. "You have good taste."

Luke rolled his eyes and picked up the stack of receipts. "She's a lot easier to take than most people," he grumbled.

Lorelai laughed as she backed away from the counter. "Ain't that the truth, Duke."

Rory heaved an exasperated sigh as she gripped Lorelai's arm and drew her toward the door. "Thanks, Luke, the pie was great," she called out.

"You're welcome, Rory," he answered with a slight nod. "See you Tuesday."

Lorelai sat on the bench, shivering slightly as the memories washed over her like the cool spring air. As she stared at the diner, she knew that the decision she had come to the week before had grown from the seed planted that night. Okay, there may have been a little germination left over from that long-past night of passionate kissing in a darkened hallway nearly half a decade before, but that night it really began to sprout.

She could admit now that only thing more attractive than an attractive man who taking an interest in you; is an attractive man taking a genuine interest in your kid, who by rights, should mean nothing to him, but somehow did. Luke and Rory had a friendship of their own. There wasn't anything calculated about it. If there had been, Lorelai would have winnowed it out by now. There wasn't anything weird about it. If she had felt even the slightest bit of unease, she could say without hesitation that she would have packed Rory up and run for the hills. No, as it was, Rory's friendship with Luke became the catalyst for Lorelai to feel comfortable forging her own kind of friendship with the recalcitrant diner owner.

He was terse and surly, and she liked to bait him. He was gruff and opinionated, and she liked to goad him into teeing off on one of those delightfully shocking rants that tickled both Rory and herself. She called him Duke, and he called her crazy. She had a troublesome water heater, and he had a toolbox that was as big as their living room. Lorelai liked to think that this burgeoning friendship worked for both of them. The trouble was; she wanted it to work a little harder.

She had intended to keep him at arm's length. Unfortunately, Rory didn't know her reasons for that; and kept pushing that door open a little wider, much to her mother's chagrin. But still, Lorelai could admit that she felt a little rush whenever she turned around and caught him looking at her. She felt an unexpected tingle of pleasure any time she could coax a hint of that devastating smile out of him. She felt an almost overwhelming wave of raw desire on those rare occasions when he allowed her to meet his gaze directly. She would swear until her dying day that she saw the exact same desire reflected in his dark blue eyes.

And that is how she got to where she was that night. Not the shivering on a bench in the town gazebo part, but the moment. That moment when she decided that a woman needed to do what a woman needed to do when a woman has needs that were most definitely not being met.

Lorelai stood up, and buried her hands in her pockets once again as she descended the steps. She ducked her head and cut across the lawn in a direct line toward the diner. She jogged across the street and up the steps, panting slightly as the bells announced her arrival.

"Still open?" she asked breathlessly.

"Does it matter?" he answered as he turned toward the door, swiping the coffee pot from the burner in one fluid move.

"Ah, you know me so well," she said as she slid onto a stool and began to shed her coat.

Luke smirked as he filled a mug. "Doesn't take much."

"My predictability is what makes me so unpredictable," she replied with a brilliant smile.

"What are you doing out so late?"

Lorelai chuckled and said, "It's not even nine."

"I mean, you don't usually come in at this time," he said as he grabbed a rag and took a completely unnecessary swipe at the counter.

"Rory's spending the night with Lane, and there wasn't anything worth watching on TV, so I took a walk."

"I see." Luke busied himself by straightening the already neat countertop, and carefully avoiding looking directly at her.

Lorelai smiled, noting his obvious unease as she took a fortifying sip of her coffee. She cradled the mug in both hands and took a deep breath, inhaling the calming aroma as she took the plunge. "Do you remember that night at all?" she asked quietly.

He stilled, his hand tightening on the rag as his eyes widened in surprise. "I remember it," he answered gruffly, quickly swiping the rag in a tight circle.

"Oh, okay, uh, good," she mumbled as she took another sip to cover her discomfort.

The silence hummed between them for a moment, and then Luke said, "I wasn't sure if you did."

Lorelai laughed shortly. "I, um, that was the first time I ever really went out to a bar, so it was pretty memorable."

"Really?" he asked, looking up in surprise.

"When I turned twenty-one I had a five year old," she said with a wry smile. "Kind of put a crimp in my partying."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Lorelai set the cup down and stared down into its depths. "I'm turning twenty-nine next week," she said softly.

"Yeah?" Luke straightened up, frowning as he looked down at her bowed head. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

Luke watched her carefully, waiting for her to lift her head, but she never did. "Are you, you aren't upset about that, are you?" he asked with a perplexed frown.

"I don't know," she said with a careless shrug. "Kind of."

Luke planted his hands on the counter. "It's no big deal, you know."

"Easy for you to say," she grumbled.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm almost thirty and I haven't done anything," she complained.

"What do you mean you haven't done anything? You have a kid, you have a good job, a house, and apparently the metabolism of a hummingbird," he said pointedly.

Lorelai couldn't help but smile at his assessment. "I meant I haven't really done anything for me."

"You don't have the kid, the house and the job?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Lorelai shook her head. "No, I do, I know I do, and I am proud of that," she said quickly. "But when you have a kid to raise you do all that because you have to."

"You don't have to. There are lots of people who don't," he argued, crossing his arms over his chest. "Rory tells me she's going to Harvard. She can't get there on her own."

Lorelai smiled as she tuned into the challenge in his tone. "Duke, my friend, Rory can get anywhere on her own," she said as she took another sip of her coffee.

"That's not what I meant. You know what I'm saying," he grumbled.

"I do," she admitted with a faint blush.

Lorelai watched as Luke spun away from the counter and headed for the pastry stand at the other end. Without asking, he removed the cover and reached under the counter for a plate. He plated a slice of pie and carried it back to her, sliding it across the counter without comment. Lorelai's eyes followed his economical movements as he placed a napkin on the counter and set a fork on it. "All I have left is peach," he said with a shrug.

Lorelai stared down at the golden filling oozing from the pie and whispered, "I think about that night a lot."

Luke stepped back, his eyes locked on her. She lifted her head, and he swallowed hard as her bright blue eyes met his. "You do?"

"I'm not in a place in my life where I can handle a relationship," she said quietly, lowering her eyes again and speaking to the piece of pie on her plate. "I've never really had one, but I don't think I'd be very good at it."

"Okay," Luke said cautiously.

"But I think about that night a lot, and I was thinking, I mean, we're friends, right Duke?" she asked with a wan smile.

"Luke," he corrected automatically, his eyes widening as he started to catch her drift.

"And I don't, no strings attached, you know. If you wanted…" she stammered.

"What are you saying?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

"I want to know if you want to finish what we started, you know, that night," she said breathlessly.

**March 2001**

Luke was still strapping his watch onto his wrist as he pushed through the curtain, annoyed with himself for sleeping so late. He stopped short when he saw Lorelai hovering at the end of the counter, stunned by her early morning appearance.

"Oh well, uh, good morning sleeping beauty," she said archly.

Luke blinked, his head swiveling as he spotted Rachel moving around behind his counter wearing his apron. "Yeah, well you know Rachel thought I looked a little tired," he said gruffly.

"No, it's good. You need a little break," Lorelai said tautly.

"I guess," he mumbled.

"You do," she reiterated. "So, she seems pretty comfortable here, huh?"

"Yeah, well, she always could just fit in places you know. It's a talent of hers."

"She looks good in your apron," she commented with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, well, can I get you anything?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Lorelai glanced over her shoulder at Rory and then turned back to Luke. "Oh, um, do you think you could make those really crazy chocolate chip pancakes and go extra heavy on the chocolate?" she asked in a low voice.

Luke frowned, puzzled by her secrecy. "Yeah, sure, any special occasion?"

Lorelai sighed and winced slightly as she said, "Dean broke up with Rory."

"What?" he hissed.

Lorelai shushed him frantically. "Keep it down, she doesn't want anybody to know about it."

Luke's jaw tightened. "Oh I knew it! I just knew that kid was trouble!"

Lorelai grasped his arms and spoke calmly. "Yes, you did, you knew it. Pancakes please?"

"Oh God, he's got a nerve. I mean what does he think he's gonna do better than Rory?" he asked incredulously. "Is he crazy? Jeez. Alright, well forget it, okay? Good riddance, adios, bienvenidos, hasta la vista," he said, waving his hands dismissively.

"Could we get off the small world ride and start cooking please?" she asked desperately.

"How is she?" Luke asked, his voice breaking with concern.

Lorelai felt her impatience with him flutter away. "She's been dumped by her first boyfriend," she said sadly.

"Oh man, I swear I would love to…" he said menacingly. "Okay, I'm gonna put some whipped cream on the pancakes too," he promised, pointing at her emphatically.

"Thank you, Luke."

"Yeah."

"Not a word okay?" she cautioned.

"I got it," he grumbled as he headed for the kitchen.

He brushed past Rachel without seeing her welcoming smile, fuming inwardly at Dean, at Lorelai, at Rachel and at the world in general. He stomped into the walk-in, glaring at the shelves as he planted his hands on his hips. He hated that Rory was hurt. He hated that Rachel was waltzing around behind his counter as if she belonged there. He hated that flicker of uncertainty in Lorelai's eyes as he walked through the curtain almost as much as he hated the knowing smirk she used to cover it.

He gripped the edge of a shelf, feeling the cold seep into his fingers as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear the fog in his brain. It had been a long night. A night spent on a lumpy couch as a woman he wasn't sure he wanted anymore slept soundly in his bed. He finally gave up, silently pacing the tiny apartment until Rachel appeared at his side, her hand smoothing over his shoulder to his neck. He'd wanted to push her away, to reject her the way she had rejected him repeatedly. He'd wanted to tell her to leave, to tell her to pack her bag and hop the next plane out of Hartford. He'd wanted to pound on Lorelai's door and ask her why he couldn't sleep.

Instead, he ducked out from under her hand, mumbling something about a headache. He rifled through the medicine cabinet, desperately trying to unearth something that would put him out of his misery. When Rachel appeared in the doorway with a pill bottle and a sympathetic smile, he gave in. Luke swallowed the pills she gave him, and washed them down with a glass of tepid water from the bathroom tap, mumbling his thanks as he stumbled back to the lumpy couch.

And now, Rachel was out there refilling coffee cups as if she had any right, Lorelai was out there, worrying about Rory, and Rory was out there nursing a broken heart. Luke sighed, staring at a container of fresh strawberries as his hands fell helplessly to his sides. Rory, focus on Rory, he told himself sternly as he turned and stalked out of the walk-in and through the kitchen.

"Mix up some chocolate chip batter, will ya?" he called to Caesar. "Add extra chips."

He grabbed the coffee pot as he passed, walking directly to the table Lorelai and Rory had claimed. "More coffee?" he asked, pouring without waiting for an answer. He turned to Rory and said, "Pancakes are coming right up, anything else I can get you?"

Rory shook her head. "No thanks."

Luke scowled as he stared down at her worriedly. "Hey, I've got some strawberries back there, you like strawberries don't you?"

"Yeah I like strawberries, but…"

"I'm getting you strawberries," he said decisively, and then moved to the next table.

"You told him didn't you?" Rory hissed.

Lorelai's eyes widened innocently. "No. Miss Patty did," he heard her reply. Luke smirked as he looked up and spotted Dean crossing the street, heading for his diner. Without thinking, Luke slammed the coffee pot down on the table and rushed for the door.

Luke didn't know what came over him. He didn't know why he did it. The only thing he knew was that he saw that floppy-haired bag boy walking toward his diner as if he had a right, and he saw red. He came to with Lorelai's hands wrapped around his arms, and regained his senses as she pressed into his chest. Her lips asked him if he was a lunatic, but her eyes, those expressive bright blue eyes burned with a fire he knew all too well. Her lips may have ordered him to go inside, but her eyes thanked him. They thanked him for caring enough to put a sixteen year old bag boy in a headlock.

As he stood on the diner steps, his chest heaving with exertion, he watched Lorelai wrap her arm protectively around Rory's shoulders. She glanced back at him as she led Rory away from the scene of the crime, and Luke knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd do it all over again.

**April 1997**

"What?" he asked dumbly, even though he'd heard her as plain as day.

"You heard me," she answered, lifting her chin defiantly.

"You want to…" he trailed off, staring at her in shock.

"Listen," Lorelai began as she shifted slightly on her stool. "Let's not beat around the bush here. I'm attracted to you, and I think you're attracted to me. We both know that neither of us has forgotten, you know, what happened that night, or what could have happened if we weren't interrupted."

"But," he sputtered futilely.

"We both know it," she stated firmly. Lorelai tucked her hair behind her ear, and looked down at her coffee cup. "I'm not like that, contrary to popularly held misconceptions about single mothers," she continued. "I haven't, uh, done that in a long, long time," Lorelai confessed in a low voice.

"No?"

She looked up, meeting his gaze steadily. "I'll let you guess how long."

"I don't wanna."

"You don't wanna guess or you don't wanna…" she prompted, circling her hand to signal her need for his response.

"I don't wanna guess," he answered promptly.

"Well, you've met the evidence," she mumbled as she took a quick sip of her coffee and set the mug down a little too forcefully. "Listen, I'm turning twenty-nine next week. You can consider it a mercy fu…"

"Are you kidding me?" he asked, cutting her off before she could finish the thought and tossing the rag down on the counter.

He saw her eyes widen as he circled the end of the counter, and then spotted the flash of wariness in them as she turned to face him. Luke planted his feet on either side of her stool and reached for her, his fingers curling into her upper arms as he pulled her from her seat. When she opened her mouth to speak, he quickly covered it with his, kissing her hard and fast.

"You are unbelievable," he said in a harsh whisper.

"Is that a yes?" she asked, a coy smile curving her lips as her fingers toyed with a button on his shirt.

"This is what you want?" he asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

"We can consider it a birthday present."

"For me or for you?" he asked with a breathy chuckle.

"Your birthday isn't until November."

Luke took a step back, his fingers sliding helplessly along her arms as he tried to put a sensible amount of distance between them. "Listen, I'm not a really good bet for this sort of thing," he began.

Lorelai blinked in surprise. "You aren't? Do you have a medical condition? I hear there's a pill for that now," she teased as he scowled at her fiercely.

"I'm just sayin', I'm not looking for complications in my life," he said gruffly.

Lorelai smiled, taking a tiny step forward and breeching the safe distance he had put between them. "I'm single, you're single. We're both healthy, red-blooded adults. I know you, you know me. I have an itch, and I think you'd really like to be the guy to scratch it, Duke," she said softly.

"Luke," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "My name is Luke."

"I know your name," she whispered. "I just like having my own name for you."

"Say it. Say my name," he said gruffly, his fingers closing around her wrists.

Lorelai smiled brightly as she tipped her face up to his. "Luke," she said quietly, drawing the single syllable out until it stretched taut between them.

He lowered her wrists, and stepped back, letting them slip from his grasp. He kept his eyes on her, pinning her to the spot as the electricity arced between them. Without turning around, he backed to the door and reached behind his back blindly, fumbling for the lock.

The minute the bolt tumbled, Lorelai's smile warmed into a mischievous grin. "This is going to be fun, Duke," she asserted as he walked silently toward her.

Luke reclaimed one wrist, pulling her behind him as he headed for the curtain at the opposite end of the counter.

"Ooh, up to the lair," she teased as she followed him through the curtain. "The big, strong diner man is taking me up to his lair to get laid," she added with a giggle. When he shot her a glare over his shoulder, she turned her hand and laced her fingers through his. "Admit it, Duke, you think this will be fun too," she prodded as she trotted after him.

"You talk too much," he complained.

"Well, there are two sure ways to shut me up," she countered.

"Two?" he asked as he dug his keys from his pocket and unlocked the apartment door.

"You lock your door? Are you hoarding plutonium up here? You got a secret stash of Sweet 'n Low you don't want people getting into?"

"I like my privacy," he said as he pushed the door open, and motioned for her to enter. "Two ways?" he asked her again.

Lorelai smiled as she walked over to the small wooden table and then turned back to face him. "Well, food, of course," she said leadingly.

"Of course," he said with a smirk. Luke closed the distance between them and fitted his hand to her narrow waist. "And the other?" he asked in a deep, raspy voice.

"You'll figure it out," she answered breathlessly.

"Yeah, I'm sure I will." Instead of kissing her, he lifted his other hand and gently brushed her hair back from her cheek, liking the way he could keep her a little off balance. Drawn in by the way her eyelashes fluttered down over her cheeks as she tried to mask the flicker of uncertainty he saw there. "We don't have to do this," he said quietly.

"I think we do," she answered bluntly, swaying into him, but keeping her eyes shut.

"I've thought about you," he told her as his fingers sifted through her hair. His lips twitched into a smile as a soft moan escaped her parted lips.

"Not as much as I thought about you," she challenged quietly.

Lorelai opened her eyes, and Luke smiled, unable to hold it back any longer. "So, that's how it's going to be?"

She nodded, her eyes lighting before her smile fully formed. "Yes, Duke, that's exactly how it's going to be."

His fingers closed in her thick curls, tugging on them gently and urging her to tip her head back. His mouth closed over hers, and he kissed her with all of the urgency he had felt that night in KC's, and then some.

Lorelai grasped his neck, her fingers pushing into his hair and dislodging his ever-present baseball cap. She hauled herself up against him, her fingers threading through his hair greedily as she parted her lips, taking him deeper. His hand slid up under the hem of her sweater, his fingers circling over the warm, soft skin of her back, matching the rhythm of his tongue as it circled his.

"Oh, this is going to be good," she whispered as his lips blazed a trail along her jaw.

"Good," he grunted in agreement.

"I want you," she whispered as her fingers sought the buttons on his shirt. She gasped as he pushed her sweater up impatiently, his busy mouth drawing the tender skin of her throat against his tongue.

"I've wanted you from the minute I saw you."

"The minute you scowled at me," she corrected as she let her head fall back, allowing him better access to her neck and throat.

"You drive me crazy," he grumbled against her skin.

"In a good way," she insisted as she opened another button.

"In every way," he told her breathlessly as he stepped back and yanked her sweater up over her head.

"Oh God, yes, want me in every way," she said boldly as she looked him straight in the eye.

Luke opened the clasp of her bra with a flick of his fingers, his gaze steady on hers as it slipped down her arms. Lorelai smiled as if she was the one to make that happen, and he had to laugh.

Her own laughter echoed his as he shook his head slowly. "What?"

"Nothing," he assured her as he lowered his lips to hers again, capturing them in a devastating kiss.

Lorelai clung to his arms, moaning into his mouth as his hands roamed restlessly over her back. "Are we having fun yet, Duke?" she asked with a breathy laugh as his palm covered one breast.

"You tell me," he answered as he nuzzled her ear.

Lorelai pulled his t-shirt from the waistband of his jeans, and then pushed both shirts up over his stomach, feeling the muscles quiver beneath her touch. "Oh yeah, we're having fun."

"We need to, uh… birth control," he blurted as her fingers danced dangerously close to his belt buckle.

"Not ready to give Rory a little brother or sister, Duke?" she teased.

Luke reared back, his eyes wide with panic until he saw the teasing smirk on her face. "No," he said tersely.

"I've got it covered, but there are condoms in my pocket if you're worried," she said with a laugh.

Luke shook his head in frustration and lowered his hands to her waist. Before she knew what was happening, he lifted her off of her feet, ducking down to throw a shoulder at her waist and rising as she doubled over. He smiled as she cried out in surprise, and crossed the room in four long strides. He dropped her down onto his bed like a sack of potatoes, and smiled down at her blinking in shock. "That's the third way to shut you up," he said as he stripped his shirts over his head.

Lorelai laughed as he dove for her, wrapping her arms around him and holding him to her as her body shook beneath his. "Oh, Duke, we _are_ having fun now," she chortled.

Luke chuckled as he pushed back, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck, her collarbone, and down over the dusting of pale freckles that dotted her chest. "If you'd paid attention you would have seen my name in that bathroom," he said dryly as he moved between her legs.

"For a good time call…" she purred, plunging her fingers into his hair as he nuzzled her breast.

"Exactly," he growled as his lips closed over her nipple.

"Yes," she hissed between her teeth.

"Now _this_ is fun," he murmured as he cupped both breasts in his hands and then teased the pouting pink tip of one with his tongue.

Lorelai moaned, arching up into him as he drew her into his mouth and suckled deeply. Her hips circled against his stomach, desperately seeking the friction she craved. "More," she whispered.

"Greedy," he mumbled as he moved to her other breast.

"Needy," she whispered. "Thirteen years, Luke."

He stilled as he heard his name tumble from her lips, and then drew her nipple into his mouth with renewed vigor. Lorelai bucked beneath him, rubbing against him shamelessly as a hard knot of need tightened deep inside of her. She felt his hand glide down over her stomach, smoothly seeking the button on her jeans as she writhed mindlessly. "Hurry," she whispered.

"No," he replied stubbornly, but opened her jeans anyway.

"Need," she whispered, curling her fingernails into the smooth muscles at his shoulders.

"Want," he countered as he kissed his way down her flat stomach.

"Dying," she panted.

"No," he said as he drew her zipper down. He parted the snug denim, pressing his lips to the swath of pink cotton he unveiled. "Not dying," he said quietly as he looked up at her.

"No," she conceded, smoothing her hands gently over the hard planes of his back.

"We're having fun," he reminded her as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans.

"So much fun," she agreed as she raised her hips, encouraging his progress.

Luke stripped her jeans down over her long, lean thighs, his eyes locked on the scrap of pale pink cotton that spanned her hips. He wet his lips as he pulled her shoes from her feet and stripped her jeans and socks off. "Rory's gone all night?" he asked hoarsely.

"Yeah."

"You can stay a little while?" he asked, looking up at her hopefully.

A tiny frown creased her brow as she answered slowly, "Um, yeah, I guess."

Luke nodded once, and then backed off of the end of the bed, reaching for his belt buckle. "Can we call this first time a draw?" he asked as he opened his belt.

"First time?" she questioned as she struggled up onto her elbows.

"If this is the only time, I'm slowing this down, but if you don't have to get home, I'll go as fast as you want," he told her.

Lorelai bit her bottom lip as she studied him carefully. "I don't have to get home right away," she said quietly.

"Good," he said, toeing his boots off as he tore at the button fly of his jeans. Lorelai stared at him frankly as he pushed his jeans and briefs down over his hips, impatiently kicking them aside. He froze as he saw her staring at him wide eyed, and then glanced down at his naked body self-consciously. "Okay?" he asked, suddenly uncertain.

"More than okay," she answered, a slow smile curving her lips.

"We don't…"

"Oh yeah, we do," she replied, flopping back against his pillows as she held her arms out to him invitingly.

Luke planted one knee on the end of the bed and bent forward, keeping his eyes on hers as he lowered his lips to the thin cotton that covered her sex. Lorelai's body twitched, jolted by the intimate contact, and heating as his warm breath seeped through the fabric.

"Sorry, I'll go slower," he promised, his voice deep and raspy as he nuzzled her gently, inhaling the scent of her arousal.

"No, faster. Slow later," Lorelai said as she blinked up at the ceiling, trying to harness the surge of desire coursing through her body.

Luke pressed his tongue tentatively to the damp cotton, and was rewarded with a low, primal moan. He blinked as it suddenly occurred to him that this could all be new to her. "Is this okay?" he asked as he traced the path his tongue had just forged with his fingertips.

"Please," she whispered, willing to concede anything that could help alleviate the ache in her belly.

"You're beautiful," he murmured as he slowly inched her panties down.

"You don't have to say that," she responded automatically.

"I know I don't," he replied tersely as he scooted back, pulling the twisted cotton over her feet. He ran one hand up over her leg, relishing the feel of her smooth, supple skin against his palm as he urged her knee to bend. "But you are," he asserted as he stretched out on his stomach, pressing his lips gently to her folds.

"Oh God," Lorelai moaned as his tongue tickled the sensitive skin. "Oh God!" she cried out, sitting straight up on the bed as his tongue brushed over her clit.

"No?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she hissed as she fell back once more. "Oh, yes." Lorelai pushed her fingers into his hair, holding him there as she felt his lips curve against her.

Lorelai undulated against him wildly, gasping and whimpering as his tongue parted her. He pressed one hand to her hip, calming her movements as he stroked her silky skin. "Relax," he whispered. "This is fun."

"So much fun," she panted as he circled her clit again. "Too much fun," she asserted as another wave of sensation crashed over her.

Sensing her capitulation, Luke pressed into her, drawing her into his mouth and sucking gently as she bucked against him. Her uninhibited response could have hindered his progress, but he decided to go with it, matching her ardor with each stroke of his tongue. He pushed her higher, driving her up. He felt her tense, groaning against her as she drew her other leg up, trapping his head between thighs as tense as steel. He plunged his tongue into her, stroking her as hard as he could as she cried out, her fingers fisting in his hair. He continued to stroke her, riding each spasm as they ripped through her body.

When she slowed, her legs falling open as she melted bonelessly into the mattress, he looked up at her and found her staring at him wide-eyed. She blinked, and he rose up, unwilling to break eye contact. "Okay?" he asked breathlessly.

Lorelai laughed, the sound bubbling up from her stomach until it erupted in a joyous tinkle, filling the room. Luke's mouth quirked into a smile as he pressed his lips to her stomach and kissed her gently. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Mm hmm," she hummed, arching into his kiss.

"So that's the second way to shut you up," he said, kissing his way back up to her breasts.

"Yeah."

"Good information to have," he murmured as he nipped gently at one beaded nipple.

Lorelai ran her hands greedily over his neck, shoulders and back. "How 'bout you? You ready to have some fun?" she asked softly.

"That was fun," he murmured against her breast.

"More fun," she corrected.

Luke kissed his way up her chest, showering her throat with hot, wet kisses, and then reclaimed her mouth, letting her taste herself on his lips as he settled against the cradle of her hips. Lorelai moaned, pressing instinctively into his erection, trapping him against her body as she circled her hips enticingly.

"Stop, or it'll be over before it starts," he growled as he pulled back, looking down at her pressed into his pillow as he held himself high above her.

Lorelai grinned. "What do you say, Duke, wanna have some more fun?"

One corner of Luke's mouth lifted in a smirk as he lowered himself onto her again, her teasing taunt giving him the control he so desperately sought. "Yeah, I am," he said as the tip of his cock brushed against her damp curls.

"Go for it," she whispered.

Luke's eyes closed as he pressed into her. He bit his lip as he sank a little deeper, a sharp reminder to take it slow and let her adjust to him. He opened his eyes, checking her reaction as he tried to muster the strength to utter a single word.

Lorelai's lips curved into a smile of pure female satisfaction. "More than okay," she whispered, answering his unspoken question. "You feel so good."

Taking her at her word, Luke drew back slightly, and then sank into her a little deeper. He kept his eyes locked on her face, watching vigilantly for a wince or a flinch or anything that would tell him he had gone too far, too fast. When she rose up off of the pillow and backed her words up with a soft kiss, he pressed forward, filling her completely as she moaned her appreciation in his ear.

She began to move against him, and Luke pressed his face into her neck. "Hang on," he whispered, pressing his weight into her to still her movements.

"Sorry," she apologized breathlessly.

He shook his head and forced himself to swallow past the lump in his throat as he pushed back to look down at her. Her dark hair fanned out over his pillow and her lips parted, plump, red and rosy from his kisses. He blinked, knowing that that image of her would forever be imprinted in his mind, trumping any pale fantasy he had managed to muster up in the past five years.

Lorelai smiled tentatively, and he felt his own lips twitch in response. He began to move slowly, gathering every shred of his control and holding them fast as her tight walls pulled him deeper and deeper. She pulled her legs up, wrapping them around him and holding him to her, tattering what little control he had left.

"Sorry," he apologized breathlessly as he began to thrust faster, unable to resist the pull of her.

"This is fun," she whispered as she closed her eyes, completely giving herself over to the sensations he reawakened with each stroke.

A strangled laugh caught in his throat as he shifted higher, pushing into her from above. Distantly, he heard her moan, and prayed that the change in position could give her what she needed. He drove into her mindlessly, surrendering to lure of her heat. Luke could feel her tightening around him, and instinctively thrust harder and deeper, needing to fill her as completely as he possibly could.

His guttural grunts of exertion were met with her tiny whimpers of need. His lips sought hers blindly, fusing her to him as he drove blindly toward completion. Vaguely, he heard her whisper his name. Not Duke, but Luke. The sweet sound of it catapulted him over the edge as he emptied into her in hot, hard spurts. Lorelai clung to him, urging him on as she moaned softly, eager to follow him into that mindless bliss. Without conscious thought, he continued to stroke her feeling her walls clamp down on him, tugging at him so sweetly he wished he had more to give. She cried out again, this time his name echoing off of all four walls as she clawed at his back.

He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her sweet scent as she gasped for breath under him. He shifted slightly, lifting his chest off of hers, but pressing deeper into her neck as she struggled for air.

"Holy crap," she whispered, her breath stirring his hair.

Luke chuckled helplessly, seconding her assessment of their situation. He pressed a soft kiss to her hair and then mumbled, "I can do better."

Lorelai laughed, the sound warming him as her body clutched around him. "Can you? Can you really?" she asked. "God help us both."

**March 2001**

Sometimes a girl just feels a little lonely, you know? Sometimes a girl just needs a little positive reinforcement. She especially needs it when everything is swirling around her like she's Helen Hunt caught in the middle of a twister. There was Rory and Dean and the breakup with no explanation. There was Rachel in Luke's apron babbling about long nights and Excedrin PM. There was the steadfast, stubborn and utterly baffling refusal to wallow exhibited by her daughter. There was a grown man putting a sixteen year old boy in a headlock because he dared to hurt Rory. And through all of that, Lorelai could think of nothing but the aborted phone call she had dialed the night before. _There had to be a reason for that, right?_ It had to be more than just a little loneliness or the jarring realization that someone else would be sleeping in Luke's teeny tiny bed. There must be something deeper, something calling to her, some kind of pull she felt but didn't want to think about. _That had to be it, right?_

Lorelai told herself that the sudden urge to borrow Sookie's car and show up at Max's door had to be something bigger than a reaction to the cows, tractors, ex-boyfriends and wayward girlfriends swirling around in this vortex that surrounded her. Otherwise, that would just make her a pathetic woman who runs from one man to another seeking something she doesn't want to admit she wants, and hiding from something she knows might be there if she looks hard enough. _No, there had to be a deeper meaning._ But as she rang the doorbell, the speech she had carefully composed on the drive to Hartford completely escaped her.

Suddenly faced with Max Medina, she babbled on and on about breakups and healing and moving on, and then segued smoothly into fire eating, sword swallowing and contortionism. And then suddenly, a seedling of truth broke free from the morass.

"I'm an idiot, and I'm a hypocrite and I really miss you," she concluded at last.

**April 1997**

Lorelai smiled up at the ceiling, her head cushioned on his bicep, and the sheet pulled demurely up over her breasts. "So then, she marched up to the blackboard, took the eraser from the teacher's hand, and erased half of the sentence, proclaiming to all within earshot that you should never, ever end a sentence with a preposition."

Luke chuckled. "They tried to suspend her for that?"

"They tried, but they didn't succeed," she answered with a grin. "They didn't know what disruptive was until I blew into that principal's office."

"I bet."

Lorelai smiled as she rolled over and pressed a kiss to his bare chest. "You know, don't you?" she teased.

"I witness it every day," he said dryly. He turned to look at her, tightening his arm around her and trailing his fingers lazily over her arm. "So, Rory's dad?" he asked leadingly.

"Is also very disruptive," she answered, her smile fading as she rolled onto her back once more.

"He's not around?"

"Oh, he blows in and out every once in a while," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"And you're okay with that?" he asked, incredulous.

"It is what it is, Luke," she stated flatly.

"But, he should…"

Lorelai shook her head, cutting him off as she rose up onto one elbow. "That's the way it's always been."

"But, she's…"

Lorelai pressed her finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. "We were sixteen when Rory was born. He had a right to his life just as I had a right to mine." When his lips parted again, she shook her head. "He's not a bad guy, Luke. He offered to do the right thing, I said no."

"But, Rory," he protested.

Lorelai shrugged helplessly. "I don't push it, neither does he," she said firmly. Luke tried to blink away his chagrin, his mouth tightening in disapproval. Lorelai bristled for a moment, and then softened, recognizing the need to protect Rory in his eyes. "We're fine the way we are. He doesn't interfere, and we don't make demands he can't fulfill."

"Still, doesn't she wonder…"

Lorelai smiled. "Not anymore. It was harder when she was younger, but now she kind of gets it, I think."

"You think?" he asked doubtfully.

Lorelai pressed her lips together, stubbornly refusing to debate this with him any longer. She lifted her chin and forced a quick smile. "I guess it's my turn to find ways to shut you up," she said as she pushed the sheet down and clambered on top of him, straddling his hips and staring down at him triumphantly. "Promises were made in an attempt to keep me here," she reminded him.

Luke grasped her hips to steady her and then let them slide into the dip of her waist before slowly moving them up over her ribcage. He tucked his chin to his chest and looked up at her through his lashes. "You intend to hold me to that, huh?"

Lorelai smiled and answered, "Only if you intend to hold me here."

He let his eyes slide slowly down her body, watching as she flushed slightly under the heat of his gaze. "Are you asking me what my intentions are?"

"Only if they can be fulfilled within the next thirty minutes," she replied smartly, glancing at the ancient alarm clock on his nightstand. "The clock is ticking, Duke, at midnight I turn into a pumpkin."

**March 2001**

Luke looked over at the alarm clock on his nightstand, squinting as he tried to read the hands on the softly glowing dial. He felt unsettled. It was more than the uncomfortable springs of his lumpy couch pressing into his body. It was a weight, pressing on his chest. Something had changed. Something other than the obvious.

Obviously the tousled strawberry-blond curls spilling over the edge of his bed signified a change. It was a change he wasn't sure that he welcomed. He just didn't know why. There was no reason why he shouldn't crawl into bed with Rachel. He had made no promises to anyone, and he had not asked for any in return. Still, he felt that niggling tingle of doubt. Of course, he doubted Rachel's commitment to staying. Commitment was even more foreign to her than it was to him. Like someone else he knew.

Luke blew out a breath and covered his eyes with his arm, trying to block out thoughts of Lorelai as he blocked out the mocking glow of his alarm clock, just as she had blocked him out at every turn.

**April 1997**

She kept her distance as she gathered her scattered clothing from the apartment floor, chattering nervously about all that she needed to accomplish the next day.

Luke hung back, giving her the space she so obviously needed as he began to dress.

"You don't have to," she said as she nodded to his bed.

"I need to close up," he reminded her.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that," she said with a giggle as she shimmied into her jeans.

He followed her down the stairs, wordlessly pouring coffee into a to-go cup as she hurried to the other side of the counter and shrugged into her coat. He circled the end of the counter, passing the carry-out cup to her as he reached to unlock the door. Lorelai smiled gratefully, and then ducked her head as she stepped out into the cool night air. "Thanks, Luke."

"No problem," he answered as he followed her out, pulling the door closed behind him.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna walk you home."

"Oh. You don't have to…" she began to protest.

"It's late, I'll walk you home," he answered, the finality in his tone telling her that he would brook no argument.

Lorelai nodded as she ducked her head again, nodding shyly as she started down the steps. Luke fell into step next to her, making no move to touch her as they walked through the silent streets. Unable to stand the oppressive quiet, Lorelai began rambling about this year's Spring Fling festival; regaling him with a self-congratulatory story about setting a limit on the number of costumes she would be responsible for that year.

"I mean, daffodils? Really? The kazillion tulips I made last year aren't good enough?" When he chuckled in response, she glanced over at him with a wry smile. "Taylor said we had to have fresh flowers, so I capped him at a dozen."

"That's twelve too many," Luke responded as they turned down her driveway.

Lorelai stopped just shy of the halo of light cast by the burning porch light. "Well, thanks for walking me home. And for the coffee," she added, toasting him with the cup.

"Uh, yeah, anytime," he said gruffly. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said as he rubbed his jaw nervously.

Lorelai backed away from him slowly as flashed him a brilliant smile, still hoisting her coffee cup, gratified as she saw the corners of his mouth turn down in his customary scowl. "You probably will. Goodnight," she called as she turned away and hurried for her door.

"Night," he answered softly, watching until he was certain she made it safely inside.

**March 2001**

She kicked herself all the way home. Only the fear of wrecking Sookie's car kept her from pounding her head against the steering wheel as she sped away from Hartford. She didn't know what she expected when she rang Max's doorbell, but she certainly didn't expect to turn into the slut of the century.

"Two guys in one week, classy," she chastised herself. "When you break a dry spell, you really smash it to pieces."

A soothing female voice seeped from the speakers, telling her to love someone tonight, and Lorelai snorted. "I did, I did," she answered the disembodied voice. "I did, and now I have to go buy soup and talk to some guy on the phone and I'm not even sure that he's the guy I want to be talking to," she babbled. "Oh God, she groaned as she gripped the steering wheel tighter and slowed as she approached the town square. She stared at the diner steps as she coasted past, and whispered, "Three guys in two weeks. All of a sudden, I'm a harlot, Delilah. Is that what you wanted?" she asked the sultry voiced announcer.

Lorelai turned the corner, heading directly to Sookie's house. When she pulled to a stop in the driveway, she saw that the lights were already out. With a gusty sigh, she pulled the keys from the ignition, and trudged tiredly to the front porch; depositing them in the mailbox before pulling her jacket closed around her.

Looking up as she reached the sidewalk, she allowed herself one quick peek at the windows above the diner. When saw the lights from the square reflected in the darkened panes, she turned away grimly and started for home; determined to drown a multitude of regrets in a half gallon of rocky road.

**April 1997**

Luke looked up as he saw Lane and Rory walk into the diner the following morning. He interrupted their chatter long enough to convince them that orange juice would be a much better choice than coffee, and then retreated to the sanctuary of his kitchen. When the bells rang again, he didn't need to look to know who the latest arrival would be.

Cradling two cups of orange juice in one hand, he snagged a mug and the coffee pot with the other, and took a deep breath before turning toward the dining room. Lorelai's back was to him as he approached, giving him another precious moment to compose his features.

When he placed the mug and coffee pot on the edge of the table to distribute the juice glasses, she reared back, smiling widely as she leered at the pot comically. Then, she turned her smile up a notch as she glanced up at him. "Well, good morning to you too, Duke," she said as she reached for the handle on the pot.

"You wish," he grumbled as he batted her hand away, watching as she yanked it back and cradled it to her chest dramatically.

"Duke, you're breaking my heart. I thought we were friends," she said with a pout.

"My name is Luke," he snarled as he filled her cup and then turned away. "If you want food, you're going to have to learn it," he told her as he stalked away.

Lorelai watched him go, a tiny smile threatening the credibility of her pronounced pout. She snorted as she turned back to the girls, lifting her cup to her lips as she muttered, "That'll be the day." She took a quick sip and then leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, "Hey, you call him Luke; order me eggs over easy, bacon, sausage and a short stack."

**March 2001**

"Hey," she said softly as she knelt next to his couch/bed.

Luke slowly lowered his arm and blinked up at her, his fingers tentatively reaching out to touch the riot of curls that framed her face. "Am I keeping you up?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

Rachel smiled sadly and shook her head. "Maybe I can help you sleep," she whispered, tracing the angle of his jaw with one finger.

Luke swallowed his pride along with the lump in his throat as she stared down at him, her dark eyes drenched with genuine affection. He nodded slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting a little as he stared back at her soulfully. "Maybe you can," he whispered.

Rachel's smile warmed as she took his hand in hers and stood up, pulling on his arm gently. "Come on. Come to bed."

_tbc_


	4. Physical Examinations May Be Required

**Routine Examinations May be Required**

**March 2001 **

Lorelai slowed, coasting toward the town square and her breathing finally began to regulate. This was all she needed. This town, this place where she felt at home, kept her grounded. Thumper was extracting his revenge on her stomach. She pressed her hand to her roiling belly, sending the rabbit her grandmother had smuggled into the country on dry ice a silent apology for a myriad of injustices. Returning her hand to the wheel, she gripped it tightly, her foot slipping from the accelerator as she spotted the brightly lit diner. Lack of dessert meant more than not having anything sweet to chase away the lingering distaste in her mouth. It also meant no coffee.

Pulling to the curb, she watched as Luke cleared a table, nodding his response to a request from the last occupants of a nearby table. Lorelai killed the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition as she reached for the door handle. It had been a couple of weeks since Rachel blew back into town. It had been a couple of weeks since Lorelai had spoken to Luke on that park bench. Oh, she'd seen him. Daily, as usual. She'd spoken to him. Teasing, as usual. It had been a couple of weeks since Lorelai had been able to swallow that lump that had lodged in her throat. It had been a couple of weeks since things had felt right.

As she walked toward the diner, Lorelai knew that it was entirely possible that things would never feel right again. Her worst nightmares were coming true. She knew this would happen. She knew as she sat on the edge of her mother's sofa, her hands folded in her lap and her pride in tatters, asking her parents for help. The moment the words left her lips, she knew that it was a mistake, but it was a mistake she was willing to make for Rory's sake. _I've made mistakes before and managed to survive_, she had told herself as bells heralded her arrival, _I'll make more, I'm sure_.

Lorelai slipped onto her favorite stool, and smiled as Luke stepped out of the kitchen and drew up short. "Hey," she said with a tired smile.

"Hey," Luke answered. "Be with you in a minute," he told her as he nodded to the plate in his hand.

"I'll be here." Lorelai reached for a couple of sugar packets and waved them back and forth, shaking the sugar down to the bottom before pushing them back into their container. She glanced over her shoulder, watching Luke interact with his customers, and smiled again as she quickly turned back the counter.

Luke reappeared, reaching for a mug as he lifted the coffee pot from the burner. "Rough night?" he asked as he poured.

"I look that bad?"

"You look, uh, concerned," he said as he turned to replaced the pot.

Lorelai smiled as she peered down into her mug. "That was a nice way of putting it, thank you." She sat up and looked around. "Where's Rachel?"

"She's upstairs. My bathroom is now a darkroom," he answered with a smirk.

"Ah." Lorelai took a sip of her coffee, and then toyed with the handle on her mug, turning it back and forth on the counter. "Things are good?" she asked cautiously.

Her question seemed to surprise him. Luke stared down at her as he weighed his answer. "Things are… Things are okay," he answered at last. Moving away from her, he walked to the end of the counter and lifted the lid from the pastry display Without asking, he placed a chocolate frosted doughnut on a plate, and then slid it in front of her.

Lorelai smiled at the brightly colored sprinkles that dotted the icing. She looked up into his concerned blue eyes and knew without a doubt that no matter what, letting Luke Danes into her was most definitely not a mistake.

**December 1997**

It may have been Luke's friendship with Rory that opened that door a crack, but it wasn't the sex that pushed it open wider. It was the scowl. She knew, as she liked to think that very few people knew, that the scowl that turned Luke's mouth down at the corners was not natural for him. It was a part of his armor, something he put on every morning like those ubiquitous flannel shirts and the ever-present backwards baseball cap. His smile, that smile she had seen as he looked up at her from his pillow, that was Luke. Not that he'd ever admit it.

Lorelai appreciated that about him. No one was more adept at donning protective gear than Lorelai Gilmore. A fresh swipe of mascara, a little extra gloss slicked over her lips, and a bright Close Up smile; that was her mask of choice. And without knowing each other very well, other than in the biblical sense, it seemed that they both knew it. Not that either of them would ever own up to it.

It was one of many, many unspoken things that hummed in the air between them. In the months following that night, there were moments when the sexual attraction between them sizzled and arced through the air. In the months following that night, there were also moments when each of them had looked at each other in disgust, obviously wondering what had ever possessed them. But still, that door was open now, and cautiously, almost fearfully, there were moments when each of them peeked inside.

Luke listened when Lorelai sat at his counter bemoaning the trials and tribulations of guiding a young girl through the minefield of middle school. Lorelai smiled encouragingly when he went off on rants about town festivals, the excess of red, white and blue bunting that smothered the town each Independence Day, and the absurdities proudly displayed at town meetings. She teased him, but as she did, her eyes clearly told him that she heard and understood every word he was saying. There was something there. Something indefinable. Something comfortable. Something patently non-sexual, and inevitably morphed into something overtly sexual, causing them both to keep those masks firmly in place.

They didn't talk about it. It was the one topic that was strictly off limits. And without saying so, each of them knew that it would probably happen again. The only question was: which one of them would be the one to crack? To Lorelai's thinking, it wouldn't be her. She'd made the first move, it was his turn. The problem was, months and months passed, and he never made that move.

At first, she thought it was a matter of availability. So, after a couple of months went by without an overture, she started dropping subtle hints about the occasional nights that Rory spent at the Kim's house. Once, she even went so far as to linger in the diner at closing time, talking to him about everything and nothing as he moved through his closing routine, and still, nothing. Lorelai knew that he couldn't be that dense. It had to be something else.

That nagging little voice in her head told her to face up to the facts, the man simply didn't want her. A slightly louder voice in her head, probably her ego, told her that there was no way in hell any man, much less the scruffy diner guy, wouldn't want her. And then, there was that smile. He flashed it at the most unexpected times. Never quite the full wattage; not like that night. It was quicker, shyer, and definitely unassuming. It was almost as deadly as its counterpart. Just when she'd give up, just when she'd surrender to the nagging little voice in her head that insisted he wasn't interested; he'd smile at her and she'd be at the edge of her seat again.

By the time the leaves began to fall, she had given up. By the time the first dusting of snow had covered the ground, she had almost convinced herself that it was better this way. When Mother Nature decided to dump a foot and a half of the white stuff on them the week before Christmas, she stood on her porch watching as Luke shoveled a path from her car to the porch, and thanked God that she hadn't scared him away.

"Do you want some coffee?" she asked as he reached the bottom of the steps.

"Never drink that crap."

"Never?"

"Not if I can help it."

"What do you drink?"

Luke shrugged. "Water, tea, beer," he grunted as he hefted another shovelful of heavy, wet snow.

"I think I have some tea," Lorelai said, her brow furrowed as she mentally scoured her cabinets, trying to remember where she had seen that box of tea bags.

"Yeah?" Luke asked, looking up at her as he leaned on the handle of the shovel.

"I'll go find it," she said decisively, and hurried for the front door.

Luke had finished clearing the steps by the time the front door opened again. "It's chamomile," she told him as she stood in the doorway holding a steaming mug. "Sookie brought it over the last time Rory had a cold." He kicked bottom step with the toes of his boots, and knocked the packed snow from them before climbing the newly cleared steps. "I really appreciate this. I probably would have gotten out there and sprained my whatsis," she told him.

"Hard to get around with a sprained whatsis," he agreed as he reached for the mug she held.

"Don't you want to come in?" she asked, wincing as she heard the disappointment in her own voice. "I mean, you should warm up a little."

Luke glanced down at his boots and the snowy legs of his jeans. "I'm all wet."

Lorelai bit back the urge to cry 'Dirty!' and stepped back into the foyer. "You've seen this place before, there's nothing you can do to make it any crappier," she told him.

Luke unzipped his coat and pulled off his gloves as he followed her into the house, and then immediately bent to unlace his boots. He brushed what snow he could from his jeans as he stepped out of his boots and then straightened up, reaching for the mug as he said, "Thanks."

Lorelai pulled the mug away once more, walking backward toward the kitchen. "Come in," she said with an enticing grin.

Luke narrowed his eyes as he asked, "Why do I feel like I'm walking into a trap."

Lorelai stopped abruptly and held out the mug. "No trap," she said quickly.

Luke took the tea from her and smiled. "That was a joke. Sorry, I didn't give fair warning."

"Yes, you should know by now that you should always preface your jokes with a warning so that your audience knows to insert laugh here," she said, automatically responding to that smile with one of her own. "Sit." Lorelai ordered as she gestured to the kitchen table.

"Will I get a treat?" he muttered as he lowered himself into a chair.

"I'm fresh out of Liva Snaps, but I may have some Mallomars," she answered as she slipped into the chair across from him.

"Better to hold out for the Liva Snap," he mumbled, fixing her with a glare as he took a sip of the tea.

"I really do appreciate this," she babbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his steady blue gaze.

"Well, when I heard Rory say something about needing a periscope to get out of the yard before winter was over, I figured you could use a hand."

Lorelai smiled. "She's got your number, you know."

"I know," he answered gruffly, and took another quick sip to hide his discomfort.

"Well, I guess you're not a complete sucker if you know you're being suckered."

"There's some logic for ya." Lorelai leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand as she studied him carefully. Luke shifted in his seat, trying to ignore her, and making it almost a full minute before he cracked. Lorelai tipped her head slightly, watching as he fiddled nervously with the tag on the tea bag and then lifted the mug again, hiding behind it as he asked, "What?"

She had to do it. She just had to ask. "Do you find me attractive?"

Luke's hand jerked and he jumped as the liquid scalded his tongue. He slammed the mug down a little too forcefully, his hand flying to his mouth as he grimaced in pain.

"Oh!" Lorelai cried as she hopped up and reached for the handle on the freezer door. She grabbed an ice cube and hurried over to him. "Here." Luke looked up at her guardedly as he took the ice cube from her hand and then dropped it into his tea. "Oh, I got that for your tongue, uh, your mouth," she rambled. Spinning away from him, she asked, "Do you want another?"

"I find you attractive," he answered, his fingers still pressing his lips, as if he were trying to hold the words back.

Lorelai slowly turned back to him. "You do?"

Luke laughed shortly, his eyes widening in disbelief as he said, "Yeah."

Lorelai nodded silently, her eyes meeting his. "Do you want another ice cube?"

"No."

"You never, after we… I thought we had a good time," she said, twisting her fingers around each other nervously, she dropped back into her chair.

"We did. I did," Luke answered quickly.

"But you," she said leadingly.

Luke blinked rapidly, trying to sift the gist of what she was saying from what she wasn't saying. "I what?"

"You don't want to, uh, again," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"I never said that," he said quickly.

"You never acted like it," she retorted.

"I didn't know how I was supposed to act. You said you had an itch. How was I supposed to know if it was a one time scratch or if you still, um… Aw, geez, this is ridiculous," he said as he lowered his hands to the table and stood up from his chair. "I'm not sure what you want from me, Lorelai."

"I think it was Robin Zander and his friends from Cheap Trick who said it best, I want you to want me, Luke," she said bluntly.

Luke laughed bitterly and threw his hands up in the air as he began to pace the kitchen like a caged animal. He stopped and turned toward her. "Hey, who was the goofy looking singer guy with the glasses?"

"Elvis Costello?"

"No, the 'Pretty Woman' guy," Luke said impatiently.

"Roy Orbison?"

"Yeah. Didn't he have some song like 'You Got It'?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I guess he said it best," he said dismissively.

"You do?"

"I'm not dead." Lorelai smiled her relief as she stood up and blocked his path. Luke planted his hands on his hips and glared down at her. "So, you got what you want. I'm going to go."

Lorelai grabbed his arm to stop him. "Go? Why?"

"Your walk is shoveled, your ego is inflated, and I burned the crap out of my tongue," he said impatiently.

"My ego?"

"I've gotta get back to the diner," he muttered, and pulled his arm away.

Lorelai followed him into the foyer, watching as he stooped to pull his boots back on over his thick socks. "Luke," she began.

"I've spent most of the last decade getting jerked around by one woman, Lorelai, I'm not going to let you do it too," he said firmly.

"I'm not trying to jerk you around," she argued.

"I'm gonna leave the shovel here. I'll come by and get it if I need it," he said as he tied the laces in firm knots and then straightened up, yanking the zipper of his green army coat up to his throat.

"Luke, I'm not trying to jerk you around!"

"It's been almost a year, Lorelai!"

"Eight months," she answered defensively.

"Eight months! And the very next day you were back to calling me Duke."

"I like calling you Duke, it's a pet name," she countered.

"It's annoying and insulting and you damn well know it," he spat.

"I like annoying you. I like getting a rise out of you."

Luke stepped forward, pinning her up against the wall of the entryway with his hands braced on either side of her head. "You do, huh? Well, guess what, you're getting a rise right now. Probably not the one you want, though."

"No," she whispered.

Luke nodded once and then pushed away from the wall. "I'll see you later, Lorelai," he said gruffly, and then left.

They didn't talk about it. Neither of them even alluded to anything being wrong between them. Lorelai avoided the diner for a few days, and then she finally gave in to the lure of a cherry danish. When she walked into the diner that morning, everything looked the same, but somehow everything was different.

She spotted the man in the flannel shirt working his way along the counter, his head down as he refilled coffee mugs without pause, and sidled up to her usual stool.

"Can I have one of those?" she asked in a low voice. Luke's head popped up, and she smiled cautiously. "After all, it is danish day."

He nodded and reached for a mug, filling it with the steaming black brew before turning to retrieve her pastry from the case. "Sorry, I, uh…" he said as he slid the plate in front of her.

Lorelai shook her head quickly, cutting off his apology. "No, Luke, I'm sorry," she said quickly.

Luke lifted his eyebrow at the use of his proper name in a public setting. "Friends?" he asked gruffly.

Lorelai nodded emphatically, pressing her lips together for a moment as she looked up at him. "Yes, Luke, definitely friends."

**March 2001**

Lorelai picked at the chocolate doughnut. If the look on her face wasn't bad enough, the fact that she wasn't sucking that doughnut down like a Hoover vacuum must have been enough to tell him that something was definitely wrong.

"You wanna, uh, talk about it?" he asked, wincing slightly as the question slipped past his lips.

Lorelai smiled, genuine affection lighting her eyes as she looked up at him. "No, we don't have to," she said softly.

"No, I mean, uh, what's wrong?"

He forced himself to look away as Lorelai plucked another chunk from the hapless doughnut and carried it to her lips. "My grandmother is in town. Not here, Hartford."

"Oh yeah?" he asked as he reached for his trusty towel, feeling more secure with it in his hands.

"I'm named after her. Another Lorelai."

"Wow. Like the world needed another," he teased gruffly.

"I know. We had rabbit for dinner. She brought it with her. From England," she told him, starting and stopping as each tidbit of information passed her lips.

"Really?" he asked. Luke's brow puckered as he tried to puzzle out exactly how someone did that.

"Dry ice," she supplied helpfully.

"Ah."

"My gran, she's, um, formidable," she said slowly, staring into the depths of her coffee mug.

"Must come with the name," he mumbled.

Lorelai smiled as she looked up at him again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"She's the only person I've ever known who intimidates my mother."

"She must be formidable."

"I know." Lorelai sighed and folded her hands, leaning onto the counter as she shook her head slowly. "I went there expecting to have a little fun, you know? I mean, it's nice to see my mother being the one who's squirming for once."

"But it wasn't fun," he concluded.

Lorelai studied her hands for a moment. "For the last fifteen years I've done everything that I could do to get away from all of that. I wanted, no, I needed to get away from all of that," she said softly. "I needed it for Rory and I needed it for me. More for me," she admitted with a small chuckle.

"There's nothing wrong with that," he said quietly.

"Well, there is and there isn't," she admitted. "I kept her from her grandparents. They adore her, and now that she's getting to know them a little more, I think she likes them a lot too." Lorelai reached for her mug, wrapping her hands around it and cradling it for the warmth. "That was probably wrong, but I didn't think I could take the chance."

"I get it."

Lorelai nodded keeping her eyes downcast. "But now, it's started. I started it, and now I can't stop it," she whispered.

"What's started?"

"The pushing, the pulling, the tug of war, the need to control," she said as she shook her head. "I was right. I mean, for me, I was right to stay away." She looked up at him and blew out a breath. "My grandmother wants to set up a trust fund for Rory. She wants to make sure that Rory's education is taken care of."

"Hey, that's great," Luke said with a nod. "I mean, Harvard's going to be really expensive, and even with the loans and scholarships and stuff…" he trailed off as she continued to shake her head. "What?"

"It's not about the money."

Luke reared back slightly. "It's not?"

"It's about control," she said flatly. "Look at this deal I had to make to even get her into Chilton. My parents put up the money, and Rory and I have to put up with Friday night dinners until were eighty."

"Oh."

"And Gran, she'll do anything to get at my mother." She closed her eyes, and shook off a shudder. "When she first said it, I was blown away. I almost jumped right out of my seat and did a happy dance. And then, well, then I got an earful," she sighed.

"Of what?"

"What this money could mean, the independence it would give Rory," she said, her tone fraught with worry.

"Independence?"

"She wouldn't need me, she wouldn't need my parents," she explained. "Gran couldn't have come up with a better way to torment my mother," she said, shaking her head in wonder. "And, of course, my mother knew just how to get to me."

Luke snorted derisively, capturing her attention. "Families suck."

Lorelai smiled, tickled by his abrupt assessment. "Yes, they do," she agreed gravely.

"But you and Rory, you know you have nothing to worry about there, right?" he said encouragingly.

"I hope not."

"I know not." Luke tossed the towel onto the back counter and leaned against it as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You and Rory, I've never seen a mother and daughter like you two."

"We are very special," she said facetiously.

"You are," he insisted. "You say your parents adore her, but she adores you. I thought I was close to my dad, but you guys blow us out of the water."

"Yeah?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah," he said with a firm nod. "Eat your doughnut. Everything will work out the way it's supposed to."

Lorelai's eyebrows shot up. "That's very fatalistic, even for you."

Luke rolled his eyes. "It's not fate. You get to decide, and when you do, you'll know what's right."

"You seem to have a lot of faith in me," she said with a hollow laugh.

Luke nudged the plate a little closer to her, and then gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I do." He picked up his towel and carried it with him as he went to check on the other table.

**April 1998**

"I think this may be the best birthday present anyone has ever given me," Lorelai said as she perched on the edge of her bed.

"Yeah, well, it'll never happen again," Luke muttered as he worked to remove her closet door from its hinges.

"No? Why?"

"Because you've been following me around for the last three hours babbling at me," he grumbled.

"But you're mine, I can do whatever I want with you for the next two hours."

"There's a reason why I told you to just make a list," he said as he scowled at the bent hinge. "How did you do this?"

"I'm afraid I can't divulge that information."

Luke rolled his eyes and finished removing the door and the damaged hardware. He knelt on the floor, screwing new hinge plates into the worn wooden door and feeling her eyes on him. "Like what you see?" he growled as he crawled forward to reach the other hinge.

"Very much, but I still think it would have been better if you had gone for the boxers and tool belt combo I requested."

"Next time."

"You said this would never happen again," she retorted with a triumphant smile.

Luke shook his head and applied a little more pressure, bearing down on the screw driver as he tightened the last screw. "And you screw so well," she purred.

"Lorelai," he snapped, his head jerking up.

"What? Look at what an excellent job you've done," she said as he rocked back to sit on his heels.

"You're not funny," he grumbled as he tossed the screwdriver aside and rolled up to his feet.

Lorelai lounged on the bed as he re-aligned the door. He glanced down at the screwdriver on the floor and then back up at the door, gritting his teeth in frustration. "Can you hand me that?" he asked.

"What?"

"The screwdriver," he said as he nodded toward the floor.

Lorelai slipped off of the bed and picked her way carefully to him. "I don't know, wouldn't that violate your house slave rules?"

"I'm non-union, just hand me the damn thing," he told her.

"Here you go, one damn thing," she said flippantly as she offered him the tool.

"Thanks. You can go back to being unhelpful now," he said as he took it from her.

Lorelai perched on the end of the bed, watching as he re-hung the door, moving steadily from one task to the next. "Hey, Luke?" she asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

"You remember that fight we had? Back before Christmas?"

Luke stilled for a second, and then began to twist another screw into place. "Yeah."

"I was thinking about that the other night."

"What about it?"

"Well, I was thinking that maybe I didn't make something clear. I mean, I thought I did at the time, but the other night I was watching something that reminded me, and I thought maybe I didn't," she said, wringing her hands nervously.

"Lorelai, can't we just forget it?" he asked, his voice pleading.

"See, that's the problem, it seems like a shame to just forget it."

"I don't wanna talk about this," he grunted as he forced the last screw into its hole in the doorframe.

"I just, well, I realized that I never really told you that I'm attracted to you too," she went on in a rush. "Still, uh, attracted," she said, slowing as he turned to look at her.

"What are you saying?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not really sure," she admitted. "Maybe that I'd like for that to happen again," she said, her voice rising and making her statement a query.

"Is that a question?"

"I wanted you to make the move."

"What?"

"I was waiting for you to, uh, I did the first time, it was your turn," she justified.

"My turn," he said dumbly. Luke rubbed his jaw, looking at her perched on the end of her bed, clearly awaiting some sort of response from him. "What do you want?" he asked at last.

"I thought I made that part pretty clear," she answered, color rising in her cheeks.

"I mean, from me, from us," he said quickly.

"Oh. Well, um, we're friends and I really want us to stay friends. No matter what," she said, her voice growing more confident as she saw him nodding his agreement. "Maybe we can agree to be a little more than friends, you know, every once in a while, as long as neither of us has someone in the picture."

"Okay," he said slowly. "And if someone comes into the picture?" he asked with a puzzled frown.

"Then we're friends, just friends. But still friends," she added quickly, wanting to emphasize that very important point.

Luke tossed the screwdriver he was holding toward his toolbox and took a step closer to her. "So, let me get this straight. We're friends, but every once in a while, you want to have sex."

Lorelai blinked at his blunt assessment. "Well, okay, yeah," she said at last. "I mean, if you do. I don't want to force you or anything.

Luke snorted and the pressing both hands to his head and fidgeting with his baseball cap. "How does that work?" Lorelai grinned, and Luke knew immediately that he had stepped in it. "You know what I mean," he grumbled.

"I have no idea," she answered, still smiling up at him.

"So we're both clueless," he concluded.

Lorelai shrugged. "Pretty much."

"There should be ground rules," he said, almost to himself.

Lorelai stood up as she nodded enthusiastically. "Oh! Good idea. Okay, first rule, any extracurricular activity should have no bearing on the friend thing," she said, ticking it off on one finger. When he nodded too, she cocked her head and watched him closely. "Rule two, no guilt, no strings or expectations on either side."

"Okay."

Lorelai paused for a moment, slightly taken aback by his ready agreement. She squashed that feeling and waited patiently for him to chime in. "Don't you have any rules?" she prompted, curious.

Luke chewed the inside of his cheek a little. "Um, no head games," he said gruffly. "And you're gonna have to come to me when you want…"

"You said no games. That sounds like a game to me," she objected.

"You have Rory to think about. I can't, I won't know when it's okay…" he stammered. "I'm just telling you now that any time is okay with me, but you're gonna have to tell me when you're free," he said firmly.

"I see."

"Not a game, just a matter of keeping things, you know," he said with a slight shrug.

"Private."

"Right."

"Got it."

"Good," he said with a nod.

"So, we're agreed?" she asked.

"This is so weird," he mumbled as he looked down at his shoes.

Lorelai smiled. "It is a little weird, isn't it?" When he nodded and looked up at her, she shrugged and placed her hand on his chest, feeling the steady strum of his heart. "Rory is at a church retreat with Lane," she told him. "She goes a couple of times a year to prove to Mrs. Kim that she is not completely under the influence of her mother's wicked and wanton ways," she added with a sly smile.

"Oh yeah?" Luke took a step closer, staring down at her as he rested one hand lightly on her hip.

Lorelai closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling the scent of food and sweat and possibly a little after shave. When she opened her eyes again, she saw his smooth, freshly shaven chin, and had a hard time forcing herself to meet his. "She'll be gone all day, but I only have two hours of you left," she whispered.

Luke shook his head and said, "I'll cover those other two hours some other day."

Lorelai nodded, toying with the button on his flannel and staring at his bobbing adam's apple. Finally, she worked up the nerve to look up and meet his eyes. "I want you to want me," she said softly.

Luke nodded as he wet his lips and then lowered them to hers, propelling her back onto the bed with the momentum of his body, and then catching his weight on his hands and knees. Lorelai blinked up at him as he pulled back. "Don't ask if I'm sure, 'cause I'm not sure of anything at all," she said softly.

"Me either."

"I take it back. I'm sure of one thing," she said as her eyes followed her hands to the first button on his shirt.

Luke smiled. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure about that too," he said with a low chuckle. "Is this the wicked and wanton part?" he asked as she began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Yes." Lorelai beamed up at him as she wriggled further up onto the bed, pulling him by his shirt and knocking the cap carelessly from his head. The moment her head hit the pillows, he kissed her deeply, keeping his hands planted on the bed as she quickly opened his shirt and began to push it from his shoulders.

"Be my slave for two more hours, I'll make it worth your while," she said breathlessly as he kissed his way down her neck.

Luke's lips curved as he pressed them to the base of her throat. "I'll work off the clock," he said as he pushed back, rising up on his knees to strip off his shirts and toss them aside. He looked down as she spread her fingers over his chest, caressing him gently. "A year's too long," he said hoarsely.

"Way too long. I waited and waited," Lorelai agreed.

"I didn't know."

"Well, now we have rules, right?" she said softly. "And I get the part about me making the move, I do, but I want you to tell me when you want…"

Luke chuckled as he reached for the hem of her t-shirt. "I'm a guy, Lorelai, look at me cross-eyed and I want you," he teased as he worked the fabric up over her stomach.

"Me, or just any woman?" she asked coyly.

Luke smiled. "You, of course," he said as he pulled the shirt up over her head.

Lorelai frowned as her shirt sailed across the room, slightly disturbed by his glib answer. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cupped her lace covered breasts in his hands, pushing them up until they spilled over the cups of her bra and all those disquieting thought flew from her head. He lowered his lips to her breasts, kissing his way reverently across the curved tops as he pushed his thumbs under the front clasp of her bra. "Damn, I forgot how good you are at this," she exhaled.

"I haven't forgotten what you feel like," he answered as he opened her bra and took her breasts in his hands. "I haven't forgotten what you taste like," he told her as he lowered his mouth to one pink tipped crest. Her drew on her lightly, but released her as she moaned aloud.

"Nuh," she protested, weaving her fingers into his hair and tugging him back down to her breast.

"I haven't forgotten what you look like," he said with a wicked grin. Luke rolled onto his back, pulling her with him and smiling wider as she scrambled to straddle his hips and pushed herself up.

His smile slowly faded as he looked up at her with heavily lidded eyes as the afternoon sunlight streamed through her sheer curtains. Watching her reaction as he filled his hands with her breasts once more, Luke said softly, "You look beautiful."

Lorelai wet her parted lips as she stared down into his deep blue eyes. "This is gonna be fun, huh Duke?" she said softly.

"Don't start that again," he growled as he opened the button on her jeans.

Lorelai's answering smile was slow and sensuous as she leaned down, her breasts pressing against his bare chest as her lips hovered just above his. "Admit it, Duke, this is going to be fun," she whispered in a low husky voice.

"That's not my name."

Lorelai pressed down, grinding lazily against the straining bulge in his jeans. "You want me to say it, you're gonna have to make me."

Luke surged up off of the pillows, fisting one hand in her thick, dark hair and pulling her head back as he kissed her hungrily, his other hand pressing on her hip as she circled teasingly over him. "This is going to be fun," he told her as his hand slid to her zipper.

Lorelai laughed as he yanked the tab down, cursing mildly as the snug material caught and held. The moment he got them open, Lorelai pushed her jeans and panties down over her hips, smiling at him, her eyes dancing with delight as she rose up and began to wriggle her way out of the constricting denim. When she moved off of the bed to complete the task, Luke tore at his belt and jeans, opening them with equal haste, and pushing them down impatiently. Lorelai made a soft purring noise as his erection sprung free, and Luke paused, looking up at her quizzically. She shrugged as she reached for his boots, and tugged the laces, yanking them none-too-gently from his feet before helping to divest him of the remainder of his clothing.

Luke braced his arms behind him and watched as she knelt on the bed and then slowly crawled back over him. "I like the way you look, Duke, sue me," she said with a sassy grin.

"I've got a better idea," he said as she rose up on her knees, straddling his thighs.

"Yeah?"

"Mm hmm," he answered as he grasped her hips. Sliding down between her legs, he pulled her up until she straddled his head instead.

Lorelai blinked in surprise and then moaned softly as he pulled her down to his eager mouth. His tongue slipped through her folds like quicksilver, leaving a ripple of tremors in its wake. Lorelai melted like putty in his hands, her knees slipping further on the mattress as she sank down onto him. He drew her clit into his mouth and sucked gently, his hands tightening on her as her body twitched and jerked. The soft, tender caress of his lips and the slow, maddening stroke soft his tongue steadily drove her up. He squeezed her smooth, white ass, pulling her down onto him as his tongue pressed deeper into her, thrusting hungrily as she gasped and panted above him. He felt the first swell of her orgasm building, reveled in the rush of heat against his skin and groaned with pleasure as he tasted her climax.

"Oh, Luke," she sighed as she fell forward, pressing her face into the pillows as he continued to gently lap at her folds.

Luke smiled as he pressed his lips to the soft skin of her inner thigh. "That was fun," he said in a deep, hoarse voice.

Lorelai's smile was slow and satisfied as she pushed up with her arms. "Wanna do it again?" she teased.

**March 2001**

Lorelai wet her finger and pressed it to her empty plate, gathering stray pink, green and yellow sprinkles on the pad and then carrying the renegades to her lips. Luke circled the counter and reached for the coffee pot, refilling her mug without asking.

The bells rang, starling them both, and then immediately began to shake his head. "I'm closed, Kirk," he growled.

"But they're in here," he said as he nodded to the occupied table and then to Lorelai.

"They're finishing up," Luke said sternly.

"Please, Luke? Mother stopped buying Oreos because she thinks they'll make my face break out," Kirk wheedled.

"Isn't she about ten years too late for that?" Luke snarled.

"I need something," Kirk said plaintively.

Luke pointed at the scrawny man and said, "I'll give you a brownie, but you have to take it and get out."

"Oh, thank you, Luke," Kirk said a he rushed to the counter.

"Don't sit down," Luke snapped just before Kirk's butt hit the stool next to Lorelai's.

"Just for a minute?" Kirk asked hopefully.

Luke dropped a brownie into the bag and rolled the top closed. "To go right now, or nothing," he said gruffly.

"I'll take it," Kirk said as he flailed for the bag.

Luke shook his head and walked to the door, opening it wide and holding the bag out over the steps. The minute Kirk chased after it, Luke let go of the bag and shut the door firmly; a forbidding scowl on his face as Kirk plastered his face against the door and shouted his thanks.

"Mean," Lorelai commented.

"Pathetic," Luke responded as he stomped back behind the counter.

Lorelai smiled as she took a sip of her coffee. "And yet, comforting to know that some things never change," she said quietly.

"Not around here," Luke muttered.

"Oh, things change," Lorelai said with a sage nod.

Luke frowned and then moved away, busying himself with refilling the sugar bowls at the other end of the counter. Lorelai watched him for a moment, noting the muscle that jumped in his clenched jaw as his long fingers jammed packet after packet of sugar and sweetener into the containers.

"How are things going?"

Luke shrugged. "Same as always."

"I meant with…" she trailed of, casting a meaningful glance at the ceiling when he looked over at her quizzically.

"Same as always," he answered tersely, and then stalked back to the store room.

When he reappeared with a new box of sweetener packets, Lorelai stood up and slid down a few stools. "Is it weird to talk to me about it? Because, you can, you know," she said in a low voice.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Luke, Rachel's back."

"Yeah, I noticed. Didn't you hear me say that part about the darkroom?" he answered without looking up.

"Well, how do you, uh, are you okay with that?" she asked. "Obviously you're okay with it," she muttered, answering her own question before he could open his mouth. "I just, you're my friend, I want you to be happy."

Luke looked up then. He turned and stared at her, pinning her to her seat with a penetrating stare. "You do, huh?"

"Well, yeah, we're friends," she answered, holding her hands up helplessly.

"So, if I'm confused or a little, I don't know, out of sorts I can talk to you about it?" he asked, his voice knife edged and clipped.

"Of course you can."

"Hang on," he said as the couple at the table stood up and began to make their way toward the register.

Lorelai watched as he rung up their meal, making begrudging small talk as he made change, and then following them to the door to usher them out. When he turned around with his hands on his hips, she tilted her head and raised one eyebrow questioningly.

"Let me get this straight," he said as he walked slowly toward her. "You want me to talk to you about how I'm feeling about Rachel being back."

"If you want to," she answered, her brow puckering in concern as she saw the flash of anger flicker over his face.

"What do you care?"

"I care."

"No, you don't," he scoffed. Luke turned on his heel and stomped into the kitchen.

"Yes, I do," Lorelai said as she jumped from her stool and hurried around the end of the counter, knowingly breeching the no man's land he had long since established.

Luke planted his hands on the work surface in the center of the kitchen and turned his head to glare at her. "That was you in here a few weeks ago, right?" he demanded.

"What?"

"You were the one that showed up out of the blue wanting me to screw you, weren't you?" he hissed.

"Luke!"

"Well, that's what it was, wasn't it? You didn't want me to kiss you, you didn't want to look at me, I gave you what you wanted and you were gone. And, the minute she walked in the door, you were happy to give me a pass, weren't you?" he accused.

"We said…"

"I know what we said!"

"I don't understand," Lorelai said as she took a step back and planted her hands on her hips. "I thought that we agreed. I thought that, well, there's someone in the picture."

"I don't work that way," he ground out as he pushed away from the counter and whirled on her. "I don't sleep with one woman one night and another the next. Sorry if that screws up your image of Luke's stud service."

"It's not like that," she insisted. "We said we'd be friends no matter what."

Luke clamped his mouth shut as he swallowed hard. "Yeah, that's what we said," he said bitterly. "But I won't be talking to you about Rachel. Do me a favor, don't talk to me about whoever you move on to next."

Lorelai's jaw dropped as her eyes widened. "Go to hell," she hissed between her teeth.

"I'm already there," he shot back as she turned to leave.

"Hey, Lorelai," Rachel called as she walked through the curtain.

"Oh. Hi. I was just leaving," Lorelai said as she snatched her purse from the counter.

"Oh well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Rachel said slowly. "Is Luke back there?"

"Yep," Lorelai said as she jerked the door open. She hesitated for a moment and then turned back to Rachel with a small smile. "Have a good night," she said, trying to force a little friendliness into her voice.

"You too."

Lorelai nodded and then glanced worriedly at the kitchen. "Goodnight, Luke," she called as both an apology and a warning. She smiled at Rachel, hoping to convey a semblance of normalcy, and praying that her voice didn't sound as high pitched and girly to them as it did to her.

**Summer 1998**

The television droned, but her mind was a million miles away. Actually, it was less than a mile away. Absently, she mopped up the crumbs from her Pop Tart with the tip of one finger and popped it into her mouth. As she pulled her finger from her lips, but all she could see were his eyes, dark and hot as he stared down at her, his thick cock gliding between her lips.

She should have been embarrassed. She should have been insulted. But there was something about Luke, the way he said things or they way he spoke to her; it made her feel appreciated rather than embarrassed. Things were good. They saw each other nearly every day, even if the interaction mainly consisted of ordering on her part, complaining on his part, and a healthy dose of teasing for the both of them.

It wasn't easy to carry on a clandestine affair when there was a fourteen year old girl living in your house. She'd caught Rory watching them more than once, and Lorelai knew that her little girl was anything but stupid. But still, the lure of that forbidden fruit was too much to resist.

It had been a summer of sleepovers. Lorelai was careful to invite Lane to stay as often as Mrs. Kim allowed Rory to spend the night. Sadly, that wasn't nearly often enough for her taste. But still, there were a few nights. The first came in early June. School had just let out for the summer, and Rory and Lane were discovering the joys of Bauhaus and Love and Rockets. Lorelai stuffed Rory's backpack with contraband CDs, a splitter jack and an extra set of headphones for her old Sony Discman, and tried not to dance with anticipation as she watched her daughter lumber off toward the antiques store.

"_Hey, Duke," Lorelai called as she breezed into the diner later that evening. Luke didn't move, he simply lifted his eyes and fired off a glare. She slid onto a stool and grinned at him as she folded her hands atop the counter. "Rory has deserted me for Lane. Whatever shall I do to occupy myself? Duke," she added with a wicked gleam in her eyes._

_Luke reached for the coffee pot and a mug. "I'm sure we can think of something," he answered as he poured._

"_Ah, you're a good friend," she sighed as she picked up the mug, her lips curving around the rim as she took an appreciative sip._

"_I need to close up. You wanna drink that upstairs?" he asked without looking up from the stack of tickets he was sorting._

"_Don't mind if I do," she answered pertly as she slid from the stool. Gathering her precious coffee, she sashayed toward the curtain, sending him a flirty smile as she took the keys he pulled from his pocket. "Thanks," she said and then disappeared behind the curtain._

Lorelai ducked her head as she crumbled the paper towel that had held her nine-fifteen snack. She smiled, knowing that she knew now what no one else did. Only she knew that the gruff, grumbly diner man with the fierce scowl and fearsome bark was actually a very kind man with a soft spot for a young girl, and giving lover with an earthy sensuality that could both shock and delight her; and often did. No, the straight laced, square dealing diner man loved to tease, regardless of whether he was giving or receiving, but true to form, he always followed through.

Lorelai wasn't even sure if Luke knew it. It seemed that he had carefully cultivated his image as the town curmudgeon. But she knew that the cranky guy that shouted down the town Selectman for fun and sharpened his tongue on anyone suffering a nitwit moment was could also be almost unbearably tender, and breathtakingly vulnerable. And he laughs. He laughs and he smiles and he talks. Sometimes he says incredibly dirty things in that deep raspy voice. Sometimes he speaks softly, holding her close as they talk about the town and the diner and Rory and life.

That was the most intriguing thing of all. He could laugh and smile and talk. Luke was a guy that you could make stutter and stammer and turn beet red with the slightest of innuendos. But, get him naked, strip him of that flannel shirt and the backwards baseball cap, and you find that he's almost remarkably comfortable in his skin. And what skin it was. Lightly tanned here, pale and white there. Every inch of it stretched taut with an economy that seemed almost typical of the man. But the more she knew about him, the more Lorelai realized that there was nothing typical about Luke Danes.

Of course, she wasn't exactly ranging in the normal zone either. It was a strange thing, to be a thirty year old woman with a half-grown child, and only starting to explore your own sexuality. Sure, back in 1983, she had been one of the experienced girls, but no matter how experienced you think you are at fifteen; at thirty you know that you didn't know squat. And when you've made it to thirty with your most intimate acquaintance being with a toy that was given to you as a gag gift, you know that it's time for something to give. And Luke gave and gave.

He also took. He took with such relish that Lorelai was certain that it was almost a sin just to look into those smoldering blue eyes. Luke appreciated her enthusiasm, even when it was slightly too exuberant. He encouraged her penchant for taking the lead, only feeling the need to exert his own will when she pushed too far, and she always made sure that she pushed too far. After all, what was one more sin piled on top of all the others she had committed over the years?

That night in June, Lorelai stepped into his empty apartment and stripped off her clothes the moment she set her coffee cup down on the table. She left them in a haphazard trail all the way to his bed. When she heard his footsteps hesitate just inside the door, she smiled as she stretched like a cat, displaying herself to her best advantage.

_Luke stopped beside the bed and stared down at her with the same look Ralphie Parker had when he unwrapped his Red Rider BB gun. After a moment, he recovered and tossed his hat aside before yanking both of his shirts up over his head. Lorelai smirked as he stripped off the rest of his clothes, and propped herself up on her elbows as she watched the show. He leaned down and kissed her hard before pulling back._

"_Next time, I wanna take them off," he said in a low, soft voice. "Part of the fun."_

"_Sorry, Duke." Luke rolled his eyes as he knelt on the bed and gently motioned for her to roll over onto her stomach. "My apologies," Lorelai murmured. She jumped when she felt his teeth scrape lightly over the tender skin of her ass._

"_Don't do it again," he said gruffly._

"_Mmm, I won't," she whispered as his long fingers traced the length of her back, his breath warm on her skin as he pressed into her shoulders and then brushed her hair aside._

_Luke placed a soft open-mouthed kiss to the nape of her neck and then let his tongue trail slowly down her back. Lorelai shivered when he reached the base of her spine and pressed his tongue to the tiny dip just above the crevice of her ass. "I've thought about you," he said quietly._

_Lorelai moaned as she felt his fingertips brush over her sex, knowing that he'd find her almost embarrassingly wet. "Yeah?"_

_Luke shifted slightly, kneeling between her legs as his tongue started to travel vertebrae by vertebrae back up her spine. His hands slid down to her hips, and he lifted them up off of the bed, his breath hot and fast against her neck as he rubbed his stiff cock against her ass. "You thought about me too," he told her._

"_Yes," she hissed._

"_Good," he said as he positioned himself at her entrance, and then slowly began to fill her._

_Lorelai moaned, and suddenly he was everywhere. His hands cupped her breasts gently and then squeezed them demandingly, teasing her nipples into sharp points as he thrust into her again and again. He pinched one turgid tip between his fingers as his other hand slid down her belly to stroke her clit. _

"_You're so hot," he whispered._

_Lorelai gave a breathy laugh and then said, "You're hot too."_

_Luke shook his head, teasing her clit with his fingers as his cock filled her again and again. "So hot, tight," he grunted._

"_Ohh," Lorelai moaned, catching his meaning as her breath caught in her throat. _

"_Jesus, I love fucking you," he panted in her ear._

_Lorelai felt a surge of pleasure burst deep inside her. Her blood pounded in her ears as she felt the heat rushing between her legs. She cried out softly, and Luke leaned down close to her ear. "Say it," he whispered. "Say it."_

"_Luke," she moaned as her body spasmed around him._

"_Lorelai," he answered as he felt his control snap like a twig._

That night, he had rolled onto his side and gathered her close, showering her face and hair and neck with soft kisses. That night, his fingers traveled over her body, memorizing the texture of her skin as they talked softly. That night, his smiles were plentiful, her laughter coaxed his out to play, and she whispered, moaned and called out his name three more times before slipping away before the light of day.

And so it went, another night a few weeks later, a stray afternoon when she had the day off and Rory was at school, and finally last night.

Last night, she'd lured him up the creaking wooden stairs with her. Last night, she pressed a cold beer from his fridge into his hand and led him to his ancient easy chair. Last night, she pushed on his chest until he dropped down into the chair, and she dropped down onto her knees in front of him.

"_What are you doing?" he asked as her busy hands pushed his flannel up over his stomach._

"_I'll give you three guesses," she said with a saucy wink._

"_Lorelai, you don't have to…" he began, trailing off helplessly as her fingernails scored the denim of his fly._

"_I want to. I want you," she said boldly as she unbuckled his belt._

_Luke watched her, the beer bottle dangling from his fingers inches above the floor as his elbow slipped from the arm of the chair. He closed his eyes as she opened his jeans, and Lorelai smiled, aroused by his easy capitulation. He raised his hips, allowing her to tug his jeans and underwear down until they bunched just above his knees._

_She licked the tip of his cock teasingly, smiling as he twitched and then groaned. "Yeah?" she asked, watching the muscles in his thighs tense as her hot breath teased his erection._

"_Oh yeah," he answered as he plunged his free hand into her hair._

"_Mmm," she hummed as she brushed her lips over the swollen head. Lorelai looked up at him from under her lashes and saw him watching her with rapt attention. She parted her lips and drew him into her mouth, sucking deeply._

_The beer bottle fell from his fingers, spilling over the floor as his other hand flew to her head. "Geez," he gasped._

_Inspired by his response, she sucked harder, drawing him deeper into her mouth as his fingers tightened in her hair. "Lorelai," he rasped. Encouraged, she moved faster, her mouth plunging down on him as his legs stiffened, clamping her between them. "Lorelai," he said again, this time gently pulling on her hair, to make her lift up a bit._

_A frown creased her brow as he popped from her mouth. "Huh?"_

"_Easy," he panted._

"_What?"_

"_Oh God," he whispered, as he looked down at her bewildered face. "Gonna go too fast if you do that," he said gruffly. _

_Lorelai blinked in surprise and then sat back a little. "Uh, sorry," she whispered, color flooding her cheeks._

_Luke's fingers massaged her scalp as he refused to let go of her. "No, no," he said as he sat up a little. "Uh, it's just, you feel so good," he said, struggling to find the right words. "I want… I don't want you to stop," he told her, one hand sliding from her hair to her cheek. His thumb brushed over her lower lip as he tipped her head up. "Just, a little slower. Let me enjoy it before you drive me nuts."_

"_I thought I always drove you nuts," she answered with a ghost of a smile._

"_You do," he said with a nod. "You're driving me nuts right now."_

_Her smile grew as she leaned forward, pressing him back into the chair once more. She lowered her mouth to the tip of his cock and kissed it gently. "Like this?"_

"_Now you're just being cruel," he grumbled. _

_Lorelai parted her lips and let them glide gently over the very tip of him and a low hum rumbled in his chest. Slowly, she took him a little deeper, letting her lips travel over his skin and her tongue caress him. "Better?"_

"_Don't stop," he growled._

"_No?" she teased._

"_No," he said, pulling her back down as his fingers tightened in her hair. "You started this."_

_Lorelai smiled and then ran her tongue around him. "I intend to finish it too." _

_She drew him into her mouth again and began to suck him gently, increasing the pressure as her tempo picked up. Fueled by his ragged breathing, she drew him deeper, letting his groans spur her on. She felt his hands digging into her scalp, and his muscles tense as he gasped her name. She resisted as he tried to push her away, taking him deeper still and she clutched his thighs, her fingernails digging into the taut flesh as he came._

_Luke's chest heaved as she pressed her cheek to his thigh. His hands slipped through her hair, stroking it gently as he blinked down at her. She looked up, and when their eyes met, his smile was beatific. She returned it as she sat back on her heels, basking in the glow of his unguarded admiration._

Lorelai's cheeks warmed with the memory, and she knew that no humiliation she might have felt when he stopped her could compare to the pure feminine satisfaction she felt when he smiled like that. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly picked up the remote control. She turned the TV off as she launched herself from the couch, her heart beginning to hammer as she paced the silent living room. Suddenly, Lorelai Gilmore realized just how much trouble she had gotten herself into.

**March 2001**

She had managed to avoid the diner for three whole days, but Lorelai knew that she couldn't hold out any longer against her daughter's insistence on french toast and crispy bacon. Luckily the place was packed when they got there, and Luke didn't have enough time to mumble more than, "What'll you have?" as he hovered over their table.

She and Rory sat at their table, supplying dialogue for conversations taking place at the other tables as a way to pass the time. When Luke reappeared with their orders, she had almost managed to forget that anything was wrong. And then she saw her eggs ogling her from her plate.

After a minor debate concerning proper egg placement, Luke returned the plate to the kitchen as Rory attacked her french toast.

"So, what time does the judgmental express arrive?" Lorelai asked as she took a sip of her coffee.

"Grandma gets here at noon."

"Hmm."

"Are you sure you won't do lunch?"

"Oh no, I can't, lunch is bad," Lorelai answered too quickly.

Rachel hurried to their table, startling both Lorelai and Rory as she said, "Lorelai, you're here. Good. Don't move," and then hurried away.

"I won't," Lorelai promised, turning to watch the other woman disappear behind the curtain with a puzzled frown.

Rory shrugged as Lorelai turned back to her. "What are you doing at lunch?" she asked pointedly.

"Oh, I have very important things to do."

"Like what?"

"Well, at noon I have to not have lunch with my mother."

"Very nice," Rory muttered.

Rachel began talking even as the approached their table. "So, I'm developing my pictures from the Firelight Festival. Some amazing stuff. And I'm thinking maybe there's a book here, faces of small town America. . ."

"Ah, you should feel safe, you don't live near these people," Lorelai interjected.

"Exactly," Rachel agreed with a grin. "And the very last shot on my roll was this," she announced as she held out an eight by ten print.

The lump in Lorelai's throat rose, making it hard to speak. "Wow. When did you take this?" she murmured as she stared at the picture.

"When you weren't looking," Rachel returned, smiling proudly.

Luke walked over holding her newly rearranged plate and asked, "What's that?"

"Oh, it's a picture of us," Lorelai said as she held up the print for him to see.

"Us?" he asked dumbly.

"Rachel took it," Rory told him.

Rachel nodded. "At the Firelight Festival."

"Oh, sure, yeah," Luke mumbled. He handed Lorelai her plate and said, "So, uh, here's your plate, no eyes."

"Thank you," she said, grateful to hand the photograph back to Rachel.

Rachel stared at the print for a moment and then asked, "Do you wear contacts?"

"Me? No," Lorelai said shaking her head.

"God, you've got amazing eyes," she murmured. "Doesn't she?" she asked, turning to Luke and holding out the picture for him to see.

Luke wet his dry lips and then nodded. "Oh, yeah. Sure, I guess. . . I mean, they're, you know, placed good. . . . symmetrical," he stammered. When all three women turned to look at him with amused smiles, he blew out a breath and said, "I'm gonna get some more coffee."

Rory carefully looked through the stack of photographs Rachel had set on the table. "Oh, wow. Mom, look at this," she said as she handed over one of the prints.

"What is that?" Lorelai asked as she frowned at the dilapidated building.

Rachel cocked her head to see what they were looking at. "It's an old abandoned inn I ran across when I was exploring the other day."

"This is Dragonfly," Lorelai said quietly. "I totally forgot about this place."

"Well, it doesn't look like it's been operational in years," Rachel commented.

Rory peered at the photo again. "Look at all the trees. It's pretty." She jumped as her pager went off. "Oh, I'm buzzing," she said as she dug into her pocket.

"What have I said about buzzing in public?" Lorelai teased.

Rory nodded absently as she read the message. "It's Lane. 911. That's trig. Gotta go."

"Bye," Lorelai called as Rory leapt from her chair. "Take a . . . yeah," she trailed off as her daughter hustled for the door.

"Bye, Rachel," Rory called over her shoulder.

"Bye." Rachel turned back to Lorelai and said, "See, that is one really not annoying kid."

"Yes, she really is not," Lorelai agreed.

"See, I might consider doing the whole mom thing if I could be guaranteed that I could get one just like her."

Lorelai blinked rapidly as she glanced down at her nearly untouched plate. She swallowed the lump in her throat and then forced as smile. "Oh, you can, you just have to go to Sears." She picked up the photo of the Dragonfly Inn and asked, "God, where is this again?"

"Uh, it's kind of behind the mill. You go over the little footbridge with the mean duck family living under it," Rachel explained.

"Yes, the Armbrusters," Lorelai murmured. "Wow, it's really amazing."

"Do you want to see it?" Rachel asked.

"What?"

"The inn. I'm gonna head out that way in a little while."

"Oh, well. . ." Lorelai began to hedge, panic rising in her chest.

"Come on, finish your breakfast. I'll drive us out there," Rachel cajoled.

Luke walked over to the table holding a coffee pot. "Drive her out where?"

Rachel smiled at him and said, "Oh, Lorelai and I are going to cruise the docks."

Lorelai nodded as she looked up at Luke, unable to resist baiting him a little. "Yeah, we're gonna see how many sailors we can get to tattoo our names on their butts."

"So, what do you think?" Rachel persisted, turning her attention back to Lorelai.

"Well, I have to check in at the inn first."

"Well, that's okay. Good. I'll pick you up there," Rachel said with a nod.

Feeling trapped, Lorelai shrugged. "Okay. Good," she agreed at last.

Luke leaned down a little as he asked in a low voice, "So what was all about?"

"Oh nothing. We're just gonna go check out this old inn Rachel found."

"Hmm," he hummed disapprovingly.

"What?"

"Nothing. I didn't know you guys were friends," he answered, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Well we're not really friends. I mean, I don't know her that well. But we're just hanging out. She seems really great, and we're friends," she said cautiously as she gestured to him.

Luke's jaw tightened for a fraction of a second, and then he forced himself to relax. "Oh yeah, she is. She's great. She's just, you know, a lot different from you," he said pointedly.

"'Cause I'm not really great?" she asked.

"No, you're great. Just in a different way."

"In a not really great way?"

"That's not what I meant. The two of you are just completely different people. Both great, but I'm just a little surprised that, you know, you're different types of greatness are, you know, melding and you're comfortably great together," he rambled.

"Is this bothering you?" she asked.

"This conversation? Yes."

"No. Um, the idea of Rachel and I hanging out together. Is there some reason that's weird for you or something?" she asked leadingly.

Luke gaped at her for a moment and then answered in a sarcastic tone, "Why would it be?"

"No reason I can think of," she returned coolly.

"Okay, well then it's not weird."

"Good, well I was just checking."

"Okay, well then, you checked."

"Okay. So are you gonna be pouring that coffee anytime or. . ." she let the question drift off as she gestured to her mug.

Luke shook his head to clear it. "Oh," he grunted as he began to pour.

"I'm glad it's not weird though because," Lorelai frowned as coffee began to spill over the rim of her mug, "that would be bad," she concluded.

"Oh, I'll get a rag," Luke muttered as he rushed for the counter.

Lorelai stared at the coffee pooled on the tabletop as if it held the answers to all of her questions. She jumped slightly as Luke tossed a rag down on top of the small puddle and began to wipe it away.

"I'm sorry about the other night," she said softly, not daring to look up at him.

"Me too."

"I just, maybe it would be easier if I got to know her a little better."

Luke sighed as he straightened up and cleared Rory's plate from the table. "Easier for you or for me?"

"For both of us," she said sincerely as she looked up at him.

Luke shrugged slightly and then murmured, "Doubt it," as he walked away.

_tbc_


	5. Fringe Benefits

**Fringe Benefits**

**April 2001**

His boots rumbled down the steps. Once he hit the bottom Luke burst into the store room at nearly hurricane force. He cast about wild eyed, looking for something, anything to keep himself occupied. He spotted the box cutter in the table and lunged for it. He attacked a box holding cans of stewed tomatoes viciously, slicing through the packing tape that proved to be no match for the anger and confusion bubbling up inside of him. _They were up there, talking and comparing notes. They were up there rifling through his drawers and strutting their stuff in their baseball cap fashion show._

Luke dropped the box cutter onto the table and sank down on top of a stack of boxes, burying his face in his hands. He pushed his hat up and let his nails rake over the faint mark his hat made in his forehead. _They were up there, Lorelai and Rachel. Rachel and Lorelai. They were up there talking about him. There would be Luke talk._ He squeezed his eyes shut as his fingers pulled at the stubble covered skin of his cheeks. _Lorelai was up there, pretending she'd never been there before, acting like she hadn't rolled around in my bed, as if her hands were never pressed against my window and my dick was never inside of her_.

It was too much. It was bad enough to see them talking, to know that they went out to that old inn together, to know exactly how each of them felt beneath him, to have heard them both whispering his name. It was too much to know that there were two women sitting in his apartment at that moment, _those_ two women. _Two women. And that was two women too many for one guy who just isn't enough_ _for either of them, _he decided was the hell of it. He wanted them both. He cared about them both. He'd had them both, and Luke knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd never be able to hold onto just one of them.

Rachel. He'd never been enough for Rachel. He'd never leave this town. He loved this town, despite the madness that swirled around him. He'd never wanted to be anywhere else. To his mind, being somewhere else would make him someone else. That was the problem. He was okay with himself as he was, and Rachel would never be okay with that. Rachel was all about expanding her horizons. She wanted to see and do and go. He simply just wanted to just be.

His dreams were much smaller than hers. A steady business, maybe someday a house and a family, perhaps a kid who might want to take over his diner. Luke rubbed his hands together absently, feeling that odd stab of guilt in his gut as he looked around the store room, seeing shelves lines with tools and boxes of bolts instead of jars of pickles and mustard. He knew now what his dad had built. He couldn't see it when he was younger. All he could see then were the stray nuts and bolts and bins filled with six penny nails. He didn't know then how all those pieces fit together to make something stronger.

He shook his head slightly, knowing that there was a damn good chance that any kid he could possibly have might well hate the restaurant business. He smiled, telling himself that it would serve him right if the brat filled the place with paint cans and hammers. Luke caught himself and shook his head far more violently to dislodge the thoughts of imaginary children. He jumped up, trying in vain to outrun that pipe dream in the confines of a twelve by fifteen room.

Tearing into a box containing bundled packages of napkins, he tried to clear his head as he began to stack them on a shelf. He should have known better. He should have known that for the last couple of years clearing his head meant idle thoughts of Lorelai, and idle thoughts of Lorelai frequently turned into thoughts of Lorelai that were anything but idle.

Lorelai. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to make her see that he knew her far better than she thought he did. Far better than she wanted him to know her. And yet, at the same time, she completely baffled him. She always had. The night he first saw her in the bar, he'd thought he had her number. Now that he knew her better, Luke was at turns stunned by how freakishly right he had been in that snap judgment, and how tragically wrong his perceptions turned out to be. She was an absolute mystery to him. She was also an open book, one that he could read too easily.

He knows now that he was far too screwed up the first time he'd met her to have done anything about her even if he had run into her again. He had too much going on in his head, and not enough of a heart left after Rachel's departure. He had too much changing around him; the hardware store morphing into a diner, his childhood home sold to a family with a child, and an empty single bed in a dusty converted office. Lorelai would have certainly made his head explode, he knew that now.

Then, Rachel came back, and like a fool, he'd let himself believe again. When Lorelai had popped up in his diner years later, he was still so blindsided by the latest note Rachel had left on his kitchen table that he'd hardly even seen her. He wouldn't let himself see her. Oh, but he heard her. Try as he might, he couldn't help but hear her. He heard every word of that incessant chatter, the effusion of meaningless drivel that spilled from her mouth like water cascading over Niagara Falls, and the challenging lilt in her voice when she called him Duke. She made him crazy.

Lorelai was insidious; like a vine that one cut back, broke off, or yanked out at the roots over and over again, only to find that it still flourished. She wound her way into his diner, she crept her way into his life, she wrapped her arms and legs around him in his bed; holding him tightly, so tightly that sometimes he had to fight to breathe. Luke stared blindly at the crooked stacks of bundled napkins, telling his lungs to expand as he took air in and then forcing himself to expel each breath, as if testing to be sure all systems were still operational. Satisfied that they were, he reached up and straightened the stacks, aligning them on the shelf with his usual precision.

He looked down at the empty cardboard box on the table and sighed heavily as he congratulated himself for accomplishing that little bit. He tossed the box aside to be broken down later, and planted his hands on his hips, staring down at the piles of boxes stacked around the scarred old table.

"Luke?" Caesar called.

"Yeah," he barked, startled from his thoughts.

"The drawer's stuck again," Caesar told him, peeking around the edge of the door.

Luke nodded once and skirted the boxes, following Caesar back up to the front. Without a word, Luke picked up a knife as he made his way along the counter. He slipped it into the space above the cash drawer on the ancient cash register, and expertly jimmied it open. Shooing Caesar back to the kitchen, he made change for Ed, exchanged a few grunted insults about the Yankees' chances that year, and then let his eyes travel around the empty diner as the bells signaled Ed's departure.

They stopped at the same spot they always found. That table. That chair with the slightly bent leg. If he numbered his tables, he knew he'd make that table number one. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the image of Lorelai stretched across that table; drunk, partially naked, and panting his name. He turned away, trying to dismiss the words she'd said as easily as she had. But he hadn't been able to laugh off the drunken ramblings of a woman who had fallen victim to Miss Patty's Founders Day punch. He couldn't dismiss them. He didn't want to forget them. He firmly believed that there had to be at least a kernel of truth to them. If only he could make Lorelai believe that too.

**August 1999 **

Lorelai stumbled through the diner door wearing a dowdy dress with a high neckline and long sleeves. Luke looked up from his mop and smirked when he saw the ridiculous cotton bonnet perched crookedly over her dark curls.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" he asked her by way of greeting.

"Suzy Quaker," she answered, flashing a flirty smile over her shoulder as she pushed the door closed behind her and turned the lock. She took a step toward him and then jerked back with a gasp, whirling around to find that she had shut part of her skirt in the door. A giggle bubbled up, and within seconds the empty diner was filled with their mingled laughter. He watched as she unlocked the door, gathering the skirt of that hideous dress against her legs before closing the door and locking it again. Lorelai grinned as she moved from the door to the windows, pulling each set of blinds closed as she made her way closer to him.

"I don't have any coffee made. Besides, I don't think Quakers drink coffee," he said as he watched her warily.

She stumbled against a table and giggled again as she caught the upturned chair that threatened to fall. "I'm not sure about the coffee thing, but let me tell you, Quakers love that punch Patty makes," she told him.

"You're plowed."

"Not yet, but I want to be," she answered with a saucy grin.

Luke groaned at her distasteful double entendre and plunged the mop back into the bucket. "You're messing up my floor," he muttered.

Lorelai flashed a predatory smile as she closed the distance between them. "That's not all I want to mess up."

"Drunk," he snorted.

"Crank," she retorted as she reached for a fistful of flannel and tried to pull him toward her. Luke's feet remained planted, and she stumbled into his chest, laughing as she pressed her nose to his shoulder and inhaled deeply. "Miss me?" she asked softly as she looked up at him.

"Hey," he answered, his voice softening as his body automatically began to harden.

Lorelai smiled as she pressed a soft kiss to the skin just below his jaw. "You have. You have missed me," she whispered, her voice slow and slurred.

"Been a while," he commented, trying to keep his voice neutral even as his hands skimmed up her back, holding her steady.

Lorelai nodded. "Who sends their kid to bible camp for two whole months?"

"Mrs. Kim," Luke answered, tipping his head back as her mouth worked against his neck.

"Damn her," Lorelai muttered.

"I think that point is to not be damned."

"Yeah, but how is mommy supposed to get any if baby is always home," she asked as she stretched up to nip at his earlobe.

"The eternal question."

"I missed you, Duke," she whispered, her breath hot and moist against his ear.

"Where's Rory?" he asked, his voice cracking like a teenager's.

"Mrs. Kim took her into protective custody. Apparently good Quakers don't jump up on tables and do a little boot scootin' boogie when the DJ plays _The Devil Went Down to Georgia_," she told him.

"Probably not."

Lorelai pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes glassy and bright. "I missed you, Duke, did you miss me?" she asked again as she lifted the baseball cap from his head.

"Come upstairs," he said, loosening his hold on her waist.

Lorelai shook her head slowly and reached for his hands. Pulling him with her, she stepped back until she bumped into a table, and then raised his hands to her breasts, covering them with her own as his eyes flickered from her breasts to her face. "Touch me now. Touch me here."

"But…" he began to protest.

Lorelai cut him off by pressing her mouth to his, kissing him ardently, if not a bit sloppily, as her fingers closed over his, urging him to squeeze her through the thin fabric of her dress. Luke groaned as her lips parted, the tip of her tongue teasing his lower lip until he pressed forward, claiming it with his own. His thumbs teased her nipples through the stiff cotton as she slipped her hands up under his flannel, tugging at the t-shirt tucked tightly into his jeans.

"I want you, I want you," she panted as his lips sought her neck.

Luke groaned again, pressing into her until she bowed back under the onslaught. Lorelai abandoned her quest for skin momentarily, flailing her hands behind her back until she felt one of the legs on a chair turned over onto the table. She gave it a shove, sending it sailing off of the table top and crashing into the next table.

His head jerked up. "Lorelai," he growled in warning. Lorelai met his gaze boldly and then reached out; giving the other chairs a shove until they too toppled to the floor in a tangle of metal legs. "You came in here to trash my place? I thought Quakers were non-violent," he said archly.

Lorelai reached for the button at her throat and quickly opened it, her fingers skimming down to the next and then the next as his eyes followed. "I'm not a very good Quaker," she admitted.

"I find that hard to believe."

"I wore the ugly dress because Rory insisted. Stupid Taylor, doesn't he know when he comes up with these things that some people are going to actually do the research?"

Luke smiled as she freed another three buttons, finally reaching the curve of her breasts. "Only Rory," he murmured affectionately.

"I know. I just had to get Encyclopedia Brown for a kid," Lorelai said, unable to smother her indulgent smile.

"I like the hat," he said as he jerked his chin at her bonnet.

Lorelai's eyes widened as her hands flew to her head. Her expression melted into one of pure horror as she yanked the bonnet from her hair. Luke bathed her in the warmth of his delighted smile as he gently took it from her hand and placed it back on her head.

"Leave it on," he said gruffly.

Lorelai returned his smile and shook her head disapprovingly. "Kinky," she chided softly.

Luke pulled the wide ribbons that were supposed to tie beneath her chin over her shoulders and then smoothed them over her breasts. His fingers picked up where hers had left off, nimbly opening another tiny button before he bent down and pressed his open mouth to the swell of one breast.

"Let's go upstairs," he said his voice muffled against her breast.

"I'm such a bad Quaker that I may have forgotten to wear my panties," she confessed as her fingers raked through his hair.

Groaning again, Luke's hand grappled with the voluminous skirt of her dress as he desperately sought the hem. His hand closed over her bare knee, and as it began to move up over her thigh, Lorelai wriggled back onto the table, spreading her legs apart for him to move between them.

"I missed you, Luke," she whispered as she rolled back, offering her body up to him. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons once more, and she drew her leg up to his hip, pressing her foot against his ass as his hand covered her bare sex. She moaned softly as his fingertips tangled in her curls. "Did you miss me? Even a little?"

Luke leaned down over her, parting her folds with his finger as his mouth closed over her lace clad nipple. He drew the beaded tip into his mouth, his fingers moving over her teasingly as the lace rasped against his tongue. "Missed you a lot," he confessed as he pressed one finger into her heat, gazing down at her intently.

Lorelai caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, her hips circling as he thrust his finger deeper and deeper. "I don't know what it is," she panted, staring up at the ceiling as he pushed into her. "You make me… ohhh," she moaned.

"I make you what?" he asked breathlessly, his lips hovering near hers as he lowered his weight onto his elbow.

"Kiss me," she pled softly.

Luke obliged, his lips caressing hers tenderly before he drew back and stared into her eyes. He withdrew his hand for a moment and then pressed two fingers into her wet heat. "I make you what?" he asked again.

"Want," she groaned.

"Want. Want what, Lorelai?" he asked in a low mesmerizing voice.

"You. I want you."

"You want me to do what?" he murmured as he dipped his head, his tongue teasing the soft valley between her breasts.

He waited, his fingers sliding slowly in and out of her as he waited. His teeth scraped dangerously over the lace that covered one soft mound, and he waited patiently for her answer. He expected a flurry of dirty words, one of her sexy, desperate pleas for him to fuck her that always made his knees weaken.

Instead, Lorelai breathed, "Love me."

Luke blinked in surprise, his hand stilling for a moment as his lips clung to her skin. He felt her stiffen beneath him, and pressed his mouth to her more firmly, suddenly unwilling to let her escape her words.

"Make love to me," she stammered, trying to correct her blunder. "Fuck me, Luke," she ordered, grasping his head and pulling him up to her. She kissed him hard and hot, as if her tongue were trying desperately trying to erase her slip up. When she broke the kiss, she reached for the waistband of his jeans, spewing enough filth to smother any tender sentiment that may still linger in the air. "Fuck me," she panted. "I want you to fuck me hard. I want your big cock so deep inside me."

"Lorelai," he groaned as she fumbled with his zipper.

"Now, now," she whispered as she reached into his briefs, wrapping her fingers around his hot flesh. "I want to suck you, squeeze you tight ass while you fuck my mouth, but I can't wait. I need you to fuck me now," she said as she stroked his length.

Luke pushed back, standing unsteadily between her legs and ignoring the twinge of hurt that made his stomach clench as he pushed his jeans and shorts down over his hips. He wrapped his finger around her legs and pulled her to the edge of the table, before pushing her skirt up over her stomach. Lorelai wrapped both legs around him, pulling him closer as she pressed into the table and lifted her hips. "Fuck me, fuck me," she whispered, her eyes focused on the dancing pork chop sign over his shoulder.

Anger bubbled up inside of him as he bit back a smart assed comment about fucking the pork chop instead. He positioned himself at her entrance and pushed into her a little, and then held, waiting for her to meet his eyes. When she didn't, he grasped her hips and thrust into her in one rough stroke. Lorelai gasped in surprise, but he ignored her, plunging into her with slow deliberate strokes, determined to give her what she asked for.

"This what you want?" he growled, gritting his teeth against the lure of the wet velvet surrounding him. "You just wanna get fucked, right?"

"Luke," she whispered desperately, her glassy eyes focused on the ceiling above their heads.

He slid one hand under her ass and leaned over her, bracing his hand on the table. "A nice hard fuck," he grunted, emphasizing each word with an angry thrust of his hips.

Lorelai whimpered softly and then gave a sharp cry as he thrust again. Luke stared down at her, watching as her jaw tightened, smoothing away the grimace of discomfort that had creased her forehead. He stilled as the pool of anger that had surged in his stomach was washed away by an overwhelming wave of remorse. He pulled his hand out from under her and fell onto his elbows, pressing his lips to the slim column of her throat.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured his apologies into her fragrant skin.

"Shh," she whispered nonsensically, her hand smoothing over his hair as he held himself in check, pulsing deep inside of her.

Luke shook his head, knowing he didn't deserve her comfort. "I don't want to hurt you," he told her as his lips slid over her skin, kissing away the tension in her jaw.

"I'm fine," she quickly reassured him.

"I don't want this. I don't want this," he mumbled, covering her in soft, sweet kisses.

"Oh," she gasped softly.

When she began to wriggle beneath him, obviously trying to escape his grasp, he realized what he had said. "No, no," he said, pressing her back onto the table as his mouth covered hers. He kissed her gently, coaxing her response as each kiss grew deeper and deeper, moving slowly inside of her until she began to meet each stroke. Finally, he pulled back and looked down into her drowsy blue eyes. "I want you. I want to love you," he confessed hoarsely.

"Luke," she sighed, lifting her lips to his once more.

He kissed her and kept kissing her as he fell into her over and over again. Her legs tightened around him as her hands coursed over his back, pulling him closer with every kiss, every sigh, and every thrust. He felt her walls closing around him, squeezing his breath from his lungs as his lips clung to hers. "Lorelai," he groaned into her mouth as he felt her break. Wave after wave of ripping pleasure pulled him deeper and deeper until he feared he'd drown in her heat. He spilled into her, sinking into her embrace and pressing his cheek to hers as he struggled for air.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he whispered, his voice rough and ragged and his breath hot against her ear.

"You didn't," she answered.

"I did," he said grimly as he pulled back to look down at her. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I know you don't," she told him, caressing his scruffy cheek gently.

Luke leaned into her hand, closing his eyes as he steeled himself against the certain knowledge that she held far more than his cheek in her hand, and in the end, he would be the one who got hurt.

**April 2001**

She sought him out. He knew she would. She always did.

From the very beginning, Lorelai was the one who came to him. From the time she stepped out of that bathroom until this very day, he had never once gone looking for her. He wouldn't let himself. He couldn't let himself. There was no point. She always found him. Not that he was hiding from her. He just wasn't willing to put himself out there just to be shot down.

She sought him out that long ago night when she asked him to finish what they'd started. He didn't fool himself into thinking it could be anything more than that one time. He didn't allow himself to entertain the hope. At least, not for more than a minute or two. He told himself that he would have been a fool not to take what he could get that night, and he'd never been a fool for anyone but one woman.

He'd needed it. He'd needed her. He'd needed someone who couldn't break his heart. Someone he could use to bury the hurt Rachel had left behind. Someone who could ease the ache that gnawed at him. What he didn't anticipate was pulse quickening desire that hummed through his veins whenever she was near. He told himself that he just needed someone, anyone who wasn't Rachel. As it turned out, that someone was a caffeine crazed nut job with a sharp tongue in her motor mouth and a wicked smile that warmed him down to his toes. What he never counted on was the somewhat bizarre and apparently badly needed friendship that had sprung up out of that need.

Lorelai Gilmore made him crazy, that was a fact. If it wasn't her need to talk constantly, it was her perverse need to prod him and annoy him, and her incessant desire to stuff herself with artery clogging grease that made his brain ping. The mind boggling coffee consumption was another matter altogether. But still, the more he got to know her, the more he admired her. Not just because she was beautiful. He's known beautiful women. Rachel was beautiful, just a different kind of beautiful. But there was something vibrant about Lorelai. Yes, she had a smile could light a room and a body that could make a man weep with frustration, but she was also smart and strong and confident. The more he got to know her, the more time he spent talking to Rory; the more he appreciated who she was underneath all of the trappings that made his mouth water whenever she walked through the door.

He found her truly amazing. As far as he was concerned, her relationship with her daughter was fascinating. And when he was alone in his bed staring at the ceiling and wishing for sleep to come, it was her face that he saw. In the weeks and months since that night she walked into his diner and then fell into his bed, he'd pictured her countless times. And just as he had in the months following their encounter in the bar, Luke Danes comforted himself with memories. He pictured her perched on top of him, her smile brilliant, her dark hair tousled and wild, her breasts bouncing against his palms as she threw her head back and rode him with abandon. He screwed his eyes shut and remembered the sight of his cock disappearing into her as he grunted to a pale completion, and the rolled over all alone in his bed, just as he had been after she left that night.

He told himself that it was enough. He'd almost convinced himself that the friendship that they had developed was enough and that the memories of that night were enough to hold him until something that could be real came along. And then she'd lured him into her home not once, but twice, trying to entice him into her arms and her bed. He'd resisted the first time; throwing up his defenses, his ego bruised by what he perceived to be her need to feed her own. The second time she spelled it out a little more carefully for him. Was saying yes to her position the smartest thing he'd ever done? Probably not, but it certainly was far from the worst he could do.

She sought him out, giving her body over to him so openly that only a fool would walk away from her, and he was no fool. Luke was well aware that for a guy his age, he hadn't chalked up the numbers some other guys had. Not that he was a prude, but simply that he was choosy. Quality over quantity and all that. Plus, he figured that given the amount of time he had spent in a fairly serious relationship, he was probably more experienced than most guys who had been through a dozen more women.

He liked sex. He liked sex a lot. And being with Lorelai was a revelation. For once, he was the one with the upper hand. For all of her teasing and torment, when the door closed behind them, he was the one with the experience to back him up. Of course, Lorelai's innate sensuality made her a quick study. She was unselfconscious and uninhibited, voicing her pleasure loudly and stating any displeasure she encountered firmly. But the constraints of parenthood compounded with their desire to keep their arrangement quiet meant that they met with frustrating infrequency. But after a year, he had finally managed to shake the nagging self-doubt that told him that each time would be the last time. The more they were together; the more confident he felt that she would seek him out again. After all, she always did.

And now, instead of leaving with her precious cup of coffee, she hovered in the doorway watching as he unpacked jar after jar of pickles and babbling about fascinating acts of storage. Luke tried to ignore her, hoping that after a few terse answers she's give up and go away. He should have known that Lorelai would never do what he expected her to do.

"You don't like me hanging out with Rachel do you?" she asked bluntly.

Luke rolled his eyes and muttered, "Oh, come on."

Lorelai took another step into the room. "Am I right?"

"You can hang out with anybody you want."

"Not my question."

"Well that's my answer."

"Well, we're eight," she retorted as she curling her coffee cup protectively to her chest.

Luke looked up and said, "Just a friendly piece of advice. Don't get too attached to her."

"Rachel?"

Luke nodded and continued to unpack boxes as he said, "Yeah. She's got an interesting habit of getting bored and then leaving. Usually without saying goodbye."

"People break habits," she pointed out.

"Not often."

"So, you're just convinced that that's what she's gonna do?"

Luke looked her dead in the eye and said, "I'll bet you that's exactly what she does."

That seemed to give her a moment of pause, but the moment was all too brief for his liking. "Well, let's say that is what she does, don't you think there's the teensiest possibility that if Rachel leaves Stars Hollow this time it's because she thinks you don't want her to stay?"

Luke stopped unpacking and glared at her. "Are you guys talking about me?"

"No," Lorelai answered too quickly. "Yes."

"Okay, I don't mind if you hang out with her, but you will not talk about me."

"Why? It's fun. We wear plaid, take turns not shaving," she teased.

"There will be no Luke talk period."

As he tore into the next box Lorelai asked, "Do you wanna know what I think about this situation?"

"No," Luke said shortly.

"Are you sure?"

Luke sighed and shook his head, knowing he would soon regret this conversation. "Look, if you're gonna tell me at least help me unload."

Lorelai grinned as she set her coffee aside. "Can I use the fun cutter thingy?"

"Not if you call it the fun cutter thingy."

"Please?"

"Cut the box, not your hand," Luke instructed as he handed over the box cutter.

Lorelai smirked as she said, "Good tip, you should teach." She plunged the blade into the cardboard and sliced it open easily. "Ha! Fun!"

"Talk," Luke ordered.

Lorelai shrugged. "Well, I don't know exactly what's going on in Rachel's head because I'm not a Vulcan, but from the way she talks about you and the way she smiles when your name comes up, I'm pretty sure that she's serious about staying in Stars Hollow this time," she said quickly, ignoring the now familiar twinge in her stomach.

"Yeah, let me guess. Rachel told you she wanted to put down roots, that she's serious this time, that she's tired of the road, and realizes what's lacking in her nomadic existence," he said sarcastically.

"She didn't use the phrase nomadic existence, but basically yes, that's what she said."

"I've heard the speech. I know the speech by heart," Luke told her pointedly.

"Well, I think she means it this time."

"You don't know her like I do," Luke said firmly.

"I don't," Lorelai admitted. "But she seems sincere."

Luke looked at her quizzically and asked, "How do you know?"

"Her nose didn't grow," Lorelai said impatiently.

Luke bristled. "Why are you taking her side?"

"I'm not taking her side!"

"Well it sounds like you're taking her side!"

"Well, wash out your ears, I'm not taking her side," Lorelai said as she held up her hands defensively.

"I mean you're practically pushing her on me," Luke said angrily.

"I just want you to be happy," Lorelai said helplessly.

"And you know what makes me happy?" he challenged.

"No, I just know that you've been carrying a torch for her for a really long time."

Luke snorted. "I have not been carrying a torch for her."

"Well, you wanted this to happen," she replied impatiently.

"How do you know what I wanted to happen?"

"Didn't you?" Lorelai asked bluntly.

Luke sighed, shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear it. "Yeah, I guess," he admitted at last.

Lorelai nodded, the corners of her mouth drawing down as his admission cut right through her. "Okay, so here it is, right in front of you. Just take it. Take the plunge. She could be ready. Just jump in and believe her," she said softly. When Luke turned away, refusing to look at her, she added, "Unless, you know, there's some other reason you don't want to."

"Like what?" he asked as he turned back to look her dead in the eye.

Lorelai took an unconscious step back and shook her head, denying the pain in her chest even as she tried to force the words from her mouth. "Like I. . . .I don't know," she said quietly.

Luke watched her carefully, noting every inch of the distance she had put between them and piling that on top of her wheedling pleas for him to open himself up to someone else. Someone who was not her. "There's no other reason," he concluded at last.

Nodding slowly, she backed up another step. "Okay, well, fine. Then there's no other reason."

"I'll think about it," he hedged, waiting to see if she'd change her mind.

"Okay." Lorelai placed the box cutter on a nearby shelf as she continued moving toward the door. "Well, thanks for letting me borrow your thingy."

Their eyes met, and their lips twitched, but neither of them had the heart to call out the 'dirty' that hovered in the air between them. "You're welcome," he said gruffly.

"I'll see you later, Luke," she murmured, and then she was gone.

**November 1999**

"Hey," Lorelai said as she hurried into the diner, shivering in an old tan trench coat she had liberated from the inn's lost and found.

"Hi," he answered, frowning at the too big overcoat cinched tightly at her waist. "You out flashing people or is there a hot scoop you need to call into the city desk?"

Lorelai glanced down at the coat that trailed almost to her ankles and then grinned as she looked back up at him. "Flashing," she answered without missing a beat.

"As long as you're entertained," he said dryly as he lifted a chair onto a table.

Lorelai smirked as she picked up the chair with the bent leg and placed it on the table they had desecrated a few months before. She nodded to the chair leg and murmured, "Collateral damage."

"Vandalism."

"A happy accident."

"All a matter of perspective," he told her.

"You were happy too," she reminded him.

Luke pressed his lips together, biting back the questions that flooded his brain. "What are you up to?" he asked instead.

"Pawned my daughter off on an unsuspecting antiques dealer, so I thought I'd come by to wish you a happy birthday."

"My birthday was Wednesday. I seem to recall singing that wouldn't stop until I produced blueberry muffins," he said pointedly.

"Yes, well, that was your birthday proper," Lorelai said as she continued to help him clear the diner floor. "I'm here to celebrate improperly."

"I see," he replied. "And if I had other plans?"

Lorelai stopped, clutching a chair with both hands as she held it up to her chest like a shield. "Do you?" she asked, the possibility clearly having never occurred to her.

Luke shrugged and then shook his head. "No."

Lorelai blinked and then quickly turned away, flipping the chair over and sliding it onto the table. "Well, good, because otherwise you would have missed your birthday present."

"You gave me gloves," he reminded her.

"Well, those were Rory's idea. This was mine."

"You knitted them. Rory told me."

"Rat," Lorelai muttered under her breath. "Yeah, well, you were complaining all the time, and frankly fingerless gloves aren't so easy to find now that those crazy Wham dancers have woken up and are gone gone."

"I like them," he said gruffly.

"Good." Lorelai lifted the last chair up and placed it on the table. "You're gonna like your other present even better," she promised as she turned slowly toward him.

"I am?" Luke held his ground, once again waiting until she came to him, as he knew she would.

"Oh yeah," Lorelai purred as she crossed the room, swaying her hips provocatively as she placed one high heeled pump in front of the other. She stopped just in front of him, glancing over his shoulder to be sure the blinds were closed before she splayed her hands over his chest. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and then slowly met his gaze. "Upstairs?" she asked, her voice warm and thick as honey.

Luke's eyebrows rose. "Sure," he answered, following behind her docilely as she walked toward the curtain.

Once he closed the apartment door behind them, her hands were on him again, smoothing appreciatively over his shoulders as she tipped her head up to kiss him sweetly. "Happy birthday, Luke," she whispered as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Thanks."

"Wanna see what I got you?" she asked, her warm breath playing over his lips.

The tip of Luke's tongue darted from his mouth to wet them. "Sure."

"Untie my belt."

His hands closed over the knot and he ducked his head as one long finger slipped under the fabric of the belt, slowly working it free. Lorelai pulled his hat from his head, her breath stirring the soft curls behind his ear as he pulled the ends of the belt loose and the sides of the coat hung limply on her willowy frame. Taking a small step back, he opened the coat, his expression neutral as he saw the slinky scrap of royal blue lace that molded to her curves.

Lorelai frowned in puzzlement, and when Luke looked up he caught a flicker of doubt in her blue eyes. "You don't like it?" she asked challengingly, tipping her chin up a bit.

Luke chuckled, favoring her with a boyish grin as he shook his head. "Are you kidding? I was hoping there would be something like this under this stupid coat," he said as he pushed the voluminous trench from her shoulders.

"Yeah?" she asked, her eyes lighting. Lorelai's smile faded into a frown almost as quickly as it appeared. "What do you mean you were hoping?"

"Well, you don't usually dress like Colombo, so I figured you might have something going on under there," he answered with a shrug.

Lorelai scowled. "I hate being predictable."

Luke laughed and pulled her up against his chest, holding her firmly with one hand splayed over her back. "Lorelai, you are lots of things, but predictable really isn't one of them."

And then her smile was back. She ducked her head to his neck, pressing a soft kiss to the tender skin just behind his ear. "Thank you."

"The truth," he answered gruffly. Luke slipped one finger under the thin strap on her freckled shoulder. "This really for me?"

"You see anyone else here?"

"I mean, this is for me, I get to do what I want with it?"

Lorelai pulled back and looked up at him. "Why? You wanna wear it?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "I get to do what I want with you?" he clarified.

"Anything you want," she answered in a sultry voice.

Luke kissed her tenderly. His hands framed her face as he angled his head, taking the kiss a little deeper. When Lorelai parted her lips, he grunted his displeasure and coaxed them shut, continuing to focus only on her lips. He drew her bottom lip between his, sucking at it gently before pecking at the corners of her mouth and then capturing her upper lip. He covered her mouth with his, tracing the seam with the tip of his tongue and giving her tacit permission to part them again.

Lorelai moaned as his tongue circled hers, his hands gliding over her lace covered body, and she fingertips teasing her bare legs. He drew her tongue into his mouth, sucking it gently, and then releasing it just to start the delicious torment all over again.

"God, why do you have to be such a good kisser," she muttered as he stooped to conquer her neck.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"You should be."

Luke looked up with a rakish grin and asked, "Wanna spank me?"

Lorelai smiled back. "I should. You need birthday spankings."

Luke shook his head and said, "My birthday, my present, no spanking."

"Spoilsport."

"Never been offered birthday sex before," he commented as he steered her toward the bed.

"No?" Lorelai asked, her surprise evident.

"I mean, not like this," he stammered as his cool went flying right out of the window.

"Like what?"

"You know, not, uh, you know, just sex," he answered uncomfortably.

"Is that bad?"

Luke blinked as he pulled back a little further. "I don't know, is it?"

"I don't think so," she said slowly, sounding uncertain. "I mean, it's not _just _sex. We _are_ friends." His brow knit tightly as he rolled her justification around in his head, hoping to find that it fit. "Right?" Lorelai prodded.

Luke crammed that feeble explanation down on top of his doubts when he found the edges overlapping a bit too much. "Right," he said firmly.

"I mean, obviously we care about each other, right?"

"Definitely."

"I want you to be happy, you want me to be happy," she continued.

"Uh huh."

"This is just a bonus. A little extra benefit to being friends," she decided with a nod. "A fringe benefit, if you will," Lorelai added, gesturing to the blue lace teddy that barely covered her.

"No fringe, though."

"Next year I'll dress up as Annie Oakley for you," she promised as she pulled him down and kissed him heatedly.

Luke smiled when she let him go, and stooped down, sweeping her legs out from under her. He laughed when she yelped, and stalked across the room to his bed, where he placed her gently atop the covers. "Next year, you carry me," he told her sternly.

"Well, you know, anything you can do I can do better," she said, grinning up at him as she raised one knee, digging the heel of her shiny black pump into the comforter.

"I don't doubt that," he said as he lifted her leg and slipped the shoe from her foot. "Nice touch," he added as he tossed the shoe aside and reached for her other foot.

"Thank you," she said, laughing as he dropped the other shoe to the floor.

Luke pulled his shirts up over his head, shifting from foot to foot as he yanked the hem of his t-shirt from his jeans. His eyes narrowed as she trailed her fingertips between her breasts and spreading them over her flat stomach. He unbuckled his belt and dropped down onto the edge of the bed to unlace his boots. "Keep going," he said gruffly, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

The moment he stripped off his socks, Luke stood up again his eyes following her hands as she traced the curve of her waist, letting her nails scrape over the lace until they brushed the sides of her breasts. When she cupped her breasts, pressing them together and pushing them up over the cups of the teddy, he shoved his pants down and stepped out of them.

"I'm lonely," she said coyly.

Luke stretched out over her, planting one knee on either side of her leg as he leaned down and kissed her passionately. Lorelai clutched at his biceps, moaning appreciatively as he lowered himself onto her, his muscles tensing and flexing in her hands. He shifted, bracing himself on his elbows and cradling her head in his hands as he kissed her over and over again. He groaned, pressing into her body, feeling the rough lace against his erection as his tongue circled hers keeping time with their undulating bodies.

Lorelai moaned her disappointment as he pushed back, but it quickly turned into a moan of pleasure as his lips, teeth and tongue claimed her throat. He traced her collarbone with his tongue, lapping gently at the sweet hollow in the center before kissing his way down her chest. Her breasts filled his palms, her hardened nipples pressing against his hands.

The need to have her was almost unbearable. But this time, it wasn't simply the need for release. He wanted her. He needed her. She was no longer balm for his aching ego and broken heart. She was no longer a lovely convenience to be used to scratch an itch. She spoke his name and his ego swelled to almost epic proportions. She kissed him sweetly and his heart began to pound so hard he feared it would burst from his chest. Her hands caressed his skin, leaving behind a tingling trail he knew no amount of scratching could ever satisfy. He was falling for her, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He was falling for her, and he knew that he was doomed to failure. But here, now, with her breath hitching in her chest, and her pulse throbbing in her throat; he knew he had her, if only for a little while.

He kissed his way down her slender arm, smiling as he licked the tender skin inside of her elbow and she giggled in response. He pressed his lips to her wrist, feeling her pulse strum softly against them and then nuzzled the palm of her hand, looking up at her as he placed a tender kiss to the very center. He heard her soft gasp as her fingers closed over his cheek, and that was all he needed.

Despite her whispered protests, he took his own sweet time. He licked and kissed and nipped his way back up her arm, and moved purposefully to her other arm, showering that able appendage with the same homage. He kissed the freckles on her chest, his tongue dipping under the lace edge of her teddy to tease the tops of her breasts, as his thumbs both soothed and tormented her taut nipples.

He drew the lace covered tip of one into his mouth and she moaned loudly, her fingers curling into his hair as she held him there. Luke pulled the thin strap from her shoulder, letting it dangle loosely against her arm as he pulled the fabric down, exposing one pink tipped breast. He feasted on her, suckling hard enough to make her bow up off of the bed and then laving the aching bud with his tongue until she sank down again. He repeated his assault on her senses, his hands gliding over the lace stretched tight over her stomach. His fingers teased the edge of lace that rode high on her hips, sliding down with maddeningly delicate strokes until they brushed over her mound. Lorelai whimpered softly as he sucked her nipple into his mouth again and covered her sex with his hand.

Luke closed his eyes, savoring the sweet taste of her skin on his tongue as he held his hand still, knowing she would seek him out for the friction she so desperately needed. He wasn't wrong. Lorelai pushed into his hand, undulating against his fingers wantonly as he moved to claim her other breast. He suckled her through the lace, knowing that the rasp of the material against her sensitive folds and the thin barrier between her and his mouth would drive them both wild. He exerted the tiniest amount of pressure with his fingertips, helping her find what she craved. He groaned against her as he felt her wet heat seeping through the fabric. His fingers itched to open the snaps that would give him access to her, but he resisted, letting the rough fabric torment them both to the point of madness.

Lorelai cried out, pressing against his hand and startling him with the realization of how close she must be. Luke had to force himself not to slip his fingers under the elastic and press them into her. Instead, he contented himself with her bared breast, suckling deeply and then teasing her hardened nipple with his teeth. He bit down gently, and Lorelai gasped, bucking wildly into his hand as she came. Luke raised his head, staring up at her as she panted and moaned, riding out each wave of pleasure, her face soft and a satisfied smile curving her lips.

He pulled his hand away from the damp lace and then pushed back to rest on his heels, still focused intently on her face and waiting patiently for her to meet his eyes. When she did, he simply smiled and asked, "Good?"

Lorelai hummed and stretched languidly, raising her arms up over her head and lifting her breasts. "And here I thought this was your birthday present," she purred.

"Oh, it is," he assured her. Luke moved to kneel between her legs, letting his long fingers trail over her slim thighs, and then closing his hands over them tightly and pushing her legs further apart. "I love watching you," he said husky voiced.

His fingers teased the elastic at her legs, slipping under it and sliding slowly down until his hands met at the snaps that held the fabric together. He looked up at her, meeting her slumberous blue eyes before favoring her with a wicked smile and yanking hard on the lace. The snaps gave way, and Lorelai's shocked gasp turned into a throaty laugh.

Luke bent down, pressing his face to her folds and inhaling deeply. The scent of her arousal surrounded him, the heat of her climax left her soaking wet, and when he brushed his tongue over her clit Lorelai jerked and shuddered. Her hand flew to his head, holding him there as she pushed against his mouth shamelessly. Luke didn't hesitate. He drove her up again, his lips, teeth and tongue working against her sensitive flesh feverishly as he slid two fingers into her. He set a greedy pace, lapping at her hungrily as his fingers thrust into her, driven by her tiny moans and breathless whispers. He pressed his erection against the mattress, his hips pumping mindlessly as she climaxed again. Luke pulled his fingers from her, thrusting his tongue into her heat as if he wanted to drown in her. Her tremors began to subside, and he pressed his lips to her thigh as he tried to catch his breath.

"Luke," Lorelai called to him, her hands curling over his shoulders as she gave a weak tug. Luke shook his head slightly, pressing his lips into her skin and resolutely keeping his distance. "Come here."

"You don't know," he said in a rough voice. "You don't know what you do to me."

"I know what you do to me," she whispered, brushing his softly curling hair back over his ear. "You make me feel…"

When she trailed off, he looked up. "How? How do I make you feel?"

Lorelai pressed her lips together, and he could see her sifting through that immense vocabulary of hers, searching out the right words. Luke knew before she opened her mouth that they would be safe words, compliments with little meaning that sounded like more than they were. He pushed up and crawled back over her, his eyes fixed on her face as he shook his head, telling her that she didn't need to answer. He kissed her gently, letting her taste herself on his lips and wondering if she had any idea at all of how much she affected him.

"You're beautiful," he whispered as their lips parted.

"Luke."

"Smart and funny, talented and… incredible," he told her.

"Oh," she breathed, her eyes widening at the sincerity in his voice.

"You're incredible," he said again, kissing her tenderly as he pressed against her entrance.

Lorelai wrapped her long legs around him, knowing just how he liked to be held without really knowing it. "You make me feel incredible," she answered truthfully.

Luke smiled, accepting her words at face value. "You make me feel like I'm fifteen," he told her, attempting to lighten the mood in hopes of winning a smile from her.

"Fifteen?"

His lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Another couple of minutes and I might have, uh, you know, all over the bed," he admitted in a low, gruff whisper. Lorelai laughed, her smile brilliant as she ran her hands over his back. Luke basked in the light of it, ducking his head and kissing her as he entered her.

"You're so dirty," she whispered as their lips parted.

"Just tellin' you the truth."

"Really?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "No, I'm lying about that."

Lorelai smiled again as he slid deep into her and hummed, "Mmm, I'm so glad you didn't."

Luke chuckled breathlessly. "Me too." He lowered himself onto her, pressing his face into her hair as he held himself still, feeling his pulse echoing from deep inside of her. He kissed her ear and whispered, "There's nothing like being inside you." Lorelai sighed softly and he nuzzled her jaw. "So soft and wet and hot," he breathed into her ear.

"Luke," his name was a soft moan on her lips.

"I wanna stay here. Your arms and legs wrapped around me. You wrapped around me."

"Please," she whispered.

"Please what?" Luke held his breath, wondering if he would hear the words he wanted to hear.

"Move. Please move," she answered at last.

He pressed his lips together tightly and then nodded, pushing up slightly to gain better leverage. As he began to slide slowly in and out of her, he asked, "Like this?"

Lorelai wouldn't meet his eyes. Instead, she looked up at the ceiling, her fingers digging into his back as she whispered, "Faster."

Luke shook his head. "I want slow. You said anything I want."

He braced his arms on either side of her head, circling his hips as he sank into her again and again. Biting his lip, he stared down at her, knowing she knew he was watching her, and wondering how long she would avoid his eyes. He wouldn't ask her to look at him; he knew she would sooner or later. His mouth turned down in a grim scowl at the thought. He thrust steadily, building momentum with each stroke, knowing she'd break and her eyes would seek him out.

Thankfully, it was sooner rather than later. She blinked slowly and then turned her head a fraction of an inch, her normally bright blue eyes clouded and hazy with desire and doubt as she gazed up at him. Luke ached to ease that doubt. He paused for a moment, reaching up to grasp one of her hands and pulling it back down to the pillow with his. Lacing his fingers through hers, he held her hand tightly, pressing it into the pillow as he pinned her there with his eyes and began to move faster.

Her lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. There were no words, no moans, and no tiny little sighs of pleasure. He kissed her softly, his breath ragged against her lips as he pulled back, his eyes assuring her that she hadn't been wrong to look at him. Her hips rose and fell, meeting each stroke of his cock. Her legs slid smooth and silky over the skin of his back and buttocks. One hand clung to his back as the other clenched around his, her nails biting into the back of his hand as her body tensed around him. There was no sound, no words, no whispered names; real or pet. Only the ragged edges of their breathing filled the room as she clamped him deep inside of her. She closed her eyes, and Luke felt suddenly bereft, wanting to shout out with frustration rather than exultation as he spilled into her.

Their bodies slowed and her fingers grew lax in his. Luke collapsed onto her, pinning her to the bed, afraid she'd slip away too quickly. "Stay," he whispered raggedly, hating the aching weakness in his own voice.

"What?"

"Will you stay tonight?" he asked, beyond caring about how girly his question sounded to his own ears.

Lorelai didn't answer for a moment, clearly weighing her options. "I can stay for a while," she whispered.

Luke nodded and rolled onto his side. He pulled her over onto him, running his fingers through her tangled hair, and hating himself for being willing to take what he could get.

**April 2001**

_Yes, there were two women in my apartment, but only one of those women actually wants me_, he told himself sternly.

Never before had a shelf filled with economy sized jugs of ketchup undergone such scrutiny. Luke shook his head to clear it, and then stepped over the empty cardboard cartons strewn across the storeroom floor in his haste to escape. He stalked through the deserted diner and jerked the door open, ignoring the jingle of the bells as he let it slam behind him. He stopped on the top step, crossing his arms over his chest as he dragged in a lungful of fresh air. His eyes scanned the square, watching as people scurried from point A to point B, each of them seemingly knowing exactly where they were going and what they were doing.

Luke blew out a frustrated breath and turned his head to check out the flow of traffic into the other businesses nearby. His jaw tensed as he spotted Lorelai and Rory standing in front of the bookstore, their heads bent toward each other as they perused the sign on the sidewalk. Rory laughed at something Lorelai said, and then checked her watch as they moved away, chattering on as if they hadn't a care in the world.

Luke spun on his heel and turned back into the safety of his diner. Caesar poked his head out of the kitchen as Luke pushed through the curtain and jogged up the stairs. Rachel was sitting at the table as he burst through the door. Her head jerked up as he pulled to an abrupt stop, still somewhat stunned to find her here in his space.

"Hey," he said breathlessly.

"Hi," she said as she lowered the proof sheets and magnifying glass she held to the table.

"I was just gonna," he said as he pointed toward his bed.

"Gonna?" she prompted in a puzzled tone as he crossed the room.

Luke jerked the top drawer of his dresser open, and scooped an armload of socks and underwear out of it. He dropped the pile onto the bed, and then retrieved the last few stragglers from the drawer, adding them to the pile. Then, he moved purposefully back to the kitchen, knowing Rachel's eyes were following him as he yanked open the junk drawer and pulled out a Doose's Market key ring with two keys attached.

He walked over to the table, ignoring her stunned expression as he bent down and kissed her firmly and decisively on the lips. Luke placed the keys in her hand and closed her fingers around them tightly as he said, "I'll move that stuff into another drawer later."

"Okay," she said slowly as she stood up, looking down at the keys in her hand.

"The bigger one is for the diner door," he explained.

"Got it," she answered as she lifted her eyes to his.

Luke pulled her closer, and kissed her again, this time his lips were soft and gentle, coaxing her response. Rachel kissed him back, seemingly melting against him as felt her shoulders droop with relief.

Pushing down that familiar pang of self-loathing, Luke felt the fight drain out of him. He knew that he had to choose, and really, the choice was already made for him. He could banish them both from his life, or he could simply take what he could get and hope that for once he would be enough.

Brushing a stray red-gold curl back from her cheek and asked softly, "Wanna go to a movie tonight?"

_tbc_


	6. Coverage May Be Excluded

**Coverage May Be Excluded Without Prior Notice**

**April 2001**

Sensible. She had to be sensible. She'd had her fun, sown her wild oats, taken a teeny tiny stroll on the wild side; but now it was time to get back to reality. There might be some who say that she and reality share only a fleeting acquaintance, but they would be wrong. Dead wrong. Despite what she chose to show the world, Lorelai Gilmore was well acquainted with the bastard. As a matter of fact, they were intimate, and had been for over sixteen years.

Reality meant that you stopped living for yourself and started living for someone else. For far too many years, Lorelai took that advice to heart. It was only when Rory reached adolescence and reality clobbered Lorelai over the head with the realization that she wouldn't have Rory forever. She started to realize that living for yourself and living for someone you love as much as she loves Rory do not have to be mutually exclusive. She had finally convinced herself that she had been wrong. The sad part was, when she finally decided to embrace a little self-love, the kind that didn't involve battery powered appliances, she had no idea how to go about it all.

Oh, guys asked her out. They flirted and talked and tried to impress her with their cars, their deep pockets, or athletic prowess, or in one slightly disturbing case, dubious singing talent. Needless to say, Lorelai had a difficult time picturing herself living for a guy who thought she should swoon when he sang 'My Boo' to her answering machine in a scary falsetto. Luckily, she got home before Rory that day, and all evidence was erased. She had just about decided to put the idea of men back on the shelf and fork over the extra fees for an unpublished telephone number when she took her first sip of Luke's coffee.

She'd gone in there that day wanting to see the stunned recognition on his face, to taunt him a bit and to revel in the disappointment on his face when he saw what he was missing. She'd left without any of her expected prizes, but holding a cup of the most incredible coffee she had ever tasted. Lorelai considered that a pretty fair trade off. As she got to know him better, she came to appreciate him more and more. After all, what woman doesn't like a guy who can barely contain his disgust when he looks at her, and always has a bitingly sarcastic comment on hand for almost every occasion? She couldn't help herself, she flirted outrageously, she mocked him mercilessly, and she tormented him relentlessly every time she found a chink in his armor. Well, not every time. It quickly became obvious that the gruff and grumbly diner guy had a soft spot for Rory, and she certainly couldn't fault him for that. Teasing him about Rory was strictly off limits.

A part of her wishes that she could say that the decision to ask him to sleep with her was an impulse. That way, she couldn't be held completely responsible for her actions. She wishes that she could say that, but it simply wasn't true. She'd never been able to shake the memory of that night in KC's, and the more she saw of Luke, the more she wanted to know how he could. She also knew that the odds of Luke Danes ever wanting to date someone like her ranged somewhere between slim and none. It wasn't that she didn't think he found her attractive; she'd caught him looking too many times for it to be that. It was simply the fact that they were two very different people from two very different worlds with two diametrically opposed outlooks on life. Luke made no secret about the fact that he found most of her habits disgusting and her personality irritating, but the more she thought about it, the more Lorelai felt convinced that, like a height difference, none of that would matter if she could only get him horizontal.

It worked like a charm. But then, he made no further move, made no string laden overtures, and happily went along with her plan to pretend as if it had never happened. She waited and waited until the waiting became unbearable, and then she went after him again. His rejection knocked her for a loop. Yes, her ego was soothed when he told her that he was attracted to her, but her heart felt a little bruised when she heard what he said about being jerked around, and her ego took a brutal beating when he told her that she wasn't the woman who could jerk his chain. She retreated, contenting herself with his friendship, and nurturing it a little more to make up for whatever mysterious pain and suffering he had endured. It was only when she sat down in front of the television to start making a list of repairs that needed to be done around the house that she realized that she had never told him that she was attracted to him. Chalking that up to a delicate male ego, she changed that misconception as soon as she possibly could.

And so it began. The stolen nights led to days where she woke up smiling. The lingering glances as he poured her coffee or served her pancakes made her heart rate speed up. His soft, sweet kisses made her ache almost as much as his rough, demanding hands on her body. And that smile, oh, that devastating smile. She knew she had it bad, and that really wasn't good. She knew that Luke wasn't the guy for her. She knew he didn't want to be the guy for her. And she knew that even if he thought he did, he would be wrong because he didn't really know her or what she really wanted. He couldn't know because she hardly knew herself.

The Lorelai she knew wouldn't do what she did today.

**December 1999**

The weeks following Luke's birthday were heaven and hell. Heaven, because something seemed to have changed. Something or someone had opened up. The Hell part was that Lorelai wasn't exactly sure if she was the one who cracked, or if it was Luke.

All she knew was that when she walked into the diner, his eyes automatically sought hers. When they talked, even if it was only to exchange their usual discourse concerning her questionable food choices, he leaned a little closer. And the most damning evidence of all, he smiled. He smiled when she walked through the door. He smiled when she flirted her way to a third cup of coffee. He smiled when she lingered a little too long at his counter.

Once again, she waited. Lorelai waited, knowing that at last he'd come looking for her. She dropped broad hints; letting him know when Rory's Christmas break started and making a point of casually mentioning of the requisite school break celebration sleepover, and how she would be home all alone. She waited, curled and glossed and wearing a new set of lingerie under her oh-so-casual-evening-at-home wear. She waited until midnight, but he never showed.

She tried not to be mad. She told herself over and over again that they had agreed that she would come to him. But it didn't matter. She wanted him to come after her. She wanted him to do something or say something that would let her know if he was in or he was out. He didn't. And when she walked into the diner three days later, she felt a rush of vindication when she saw his smile falter a little. It served him right.

She played it cool for six whole days, flitting in and out of the diner before he even had a chance to catch her with that smile. By New Year's Eve, Rory and Lane were ensconced on the couch with a year's supply of junk food, and Lorelai was dressed to the nines for a quick pass through Miss Patty's annual ode to auld lang syne. She dropped a tube of strawberry lip gloss into her clutch as she clattered down the steps in her high heels.

"Okay, I'm going to make a quick appearance, avoid the punchbowl, and be back here before the ball drops. You got everything you need?" she asked as she searched for her keys.

"We're fine, Mom," Rory assured her. "Party like it's 1999."

Lorelai snorted. "If there are any short guys in ruffled shirts and purple crushed velvet wanting to take me for a ride on his motorcycle, I'll call to let you know I'll be late." She found her keys under a pile of mail on the kitchen table and then rushed to the hall for her coat.

"No jungle love," Rory called after her.

"Oh-e-oh-e-oh," Lane added as she bit into a chip.

"Baby, you're a star," Lorelai sang as she pulled the door closed behind her. She pulled her coat closed over her dress and trotted to the car, her teeth chattering as she hummed 'Purple Rain' under her breath. The Jeep purred to life, and a blast of cold air gushed from the vents. "Eep!" she batted at the vents, pointing them away from her as she waited for the heater to catch up.

"Purple rain, purple rain," she sang as she backed down the drive. "Purple rain, purple rain…" As she pointed the Jeep toward the town square, she clutched the steering wheel and belted out, "I only want to see you bathing in the purple rain!"

Humming softly to herself, she cruised toward the square. Her eyes automatically drifted toward the dimly lit diner and the words from the old song burst from her. "I never wanted to be your weekend lover," she sang out as she slowed to a stop outside of the dance studio. "I only wanted to be some kind of friend," she muttered the next line as she killed the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition as she bailed out of the car.

She stood on the curb, her eyes drawn to the diner once again, and she saw him. She saw him leaning against the back counter with his arms crossed over his chest, his head turned so that he could watch her. Lorelai felt a sizzle of anger as she saw him standing there as still as a statue. And then, he lifted one hand to wave to her and the anger began to dissipate. She tried to cling to it, desperately gathering the tiny bubbles of indignation; only to have them burst into nothingness as she raised her own hand in brief acknowledgement and then fled for the safety of the dance studio.

It was hot in there, too hot. It seemed like the whole town was packed into Miss Patty's that night, including those that never darkened her doorstep for the town meetings. She moved through the crowd, steadily making her way toward the makeshift bar and trying to ignore the tiny seeds of hope that were taking root in her gut. Avoiding the punchbowl, she batted her eyelashes at Sy until he took pity on her and mixed her a weak rum and coke. Then, she set forth from the bar determined to circulate. Time and again, she found herself check the door, waiting for it to open and for Luke to appear. Time and again, she was disappointed.

Lorelai knew that she should have known better. If Luke wouldn't show up at her house without an engraved invitation, even if he knew the coast was clear, he certainly wasn't going to show up at a party at Miss Patty's looking for her. Still, she couldn't help it. As the alcohol warmed her veins, it also fired her imagination. In her mind, she could see him striding across the room, pulling her into his arms leading her in slow, lazy circles around the dance floor. She snorted softly, quickly dismissing the image because she couldn't credit the thought that Luke Danes danced at all, much less in public. No, it would be more likely that he would stride across the room, wrap his long fingers around her wrist and drag her from the party. She saw herself trotting after him, trying to catch up to him in her high heels. He'd pull her to his hard chest the moment the diner door closed behind them, his lips crushing hers as he couldn't hold back any longer.

Someone jostled her arm, and her drink splashed onto her hand; jolting her from her daze. Lorelai shook the sticky liquid from her hand and then abandoned the cup on a nearby chair. She checked the time on her pager, and then scanned the room, picking out a few people she needed to talk to before she could call it a night. After dutifully dispatching her New Year's greetings to Sookie, Patty and Babette; Lorelai went in search of her coat and slipped quietly out of the dance studio into the cold night.

She paused on the sidewalk, pushing the stifling air of the party from her lungs and dragging in the crisp cold air of the Connecticut night. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, letting Jack Frost take a bite out of her nose, and feeling the sting of the winter wind on her cheeks. When she opened them again, she saw that a lamp lit in the apartment above the diner. She clenched her teeth, working up the strength to tear her eyes away, when she saw movement in the window near his bed. Blinking rapidly, her gaze focused on Luke sitting in the window, the curtains pushed aside so that he could view the square below, and a bottle of beer clutched in his hand. She could feel his stare, burning through the pane of glass, harkening to her. Lorelai took two small steps toward the diner and then stopped. She met his gaze head on, and sensed more than saw the tiny wave of the fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle.

A minute may have passed, could have been more or possibly even less before either of them moved. Finally, she saw him lift the bottle to his lips, making no effort to rise from his chair, and that was all she needed. Lorelai ducked her head and hurried for her car, closing herself into the safety of the driver's seat and huddling into herself as she seethed inwardly. She started the Jeep and wheeled out of the spot, pressing the accelerator hard as she zoomed from the square. Too angry to go home to Rory and Lane, she cruised the streets of Stars Hollow, weaving her way around town as she tried to settle her jumbled thoughts.

_I can't, I won't know when it's okay…_ _I'm just telling you now that any time is okay with me, but you're gonna have to tell me when you're free…_

One rule. He had only one rule, but for some reason, that was the one she was having the hardest time living with. She wanted him to crack. She wanted him, just once, to want her bad enough to break the rules.

_I'm a guy, Lorelai, look at me cross-eyed and I want you…_

But she wanted more than want-want. She wanted him to _want_. Want her for more than her body or just a few laughs, or her amazing kid. She wanted him to want all of her so badly that it made him cross-eyed.

_I want you. I want to love you… _

She knew those words couldn't mean what she wanted them to mean, but she hung onto them. She wrapped both hands around those words spoken in the heat of the moment and held on, wishing she could hear them in the cool light of day.

_I wanna stay here. Your arms and legs wrapped around me. You wrapped around me…_

Lorelai found herself sitting at a stop sign staring at the town square. She stared through the barren tree limbs at the diner, knowing that she wanted the same thing. She wanted to stay wrapped up in his arms, burrowed down in his ridiculously tiny bed, wrapped around him; holding him deep inside of her where no one else could have him. The hell of it was that she wanted that out of bed too, and she knew that it just wasn't going to happen. It gnawed at her, this vague discontentment with her life.

It made her angry because she knew that she should be content. She had everything she could possibly hope for; a wonderful kid with the brightest of futures ahead of her, a home that was truly a home, and a job that challenged and exhilarated her. Okay, so she didn't have a white picket fence and a husband waiting for her with her slippers when she walked through the door. She did have a friend, a good friend who truly cared about her and Rory. She had a friend who could wrap his arms around her and make her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, if only for a few hours. _It should be enough_, she told herself sternly. _It had to be enough_.

Lorelai jerked the wheel and turned back toward the dance studio. Reclaiming the parking spot she had just vacated, she pulled the keys from the ignition kicked the door open. When her feet hit the pavement, she turned and saw Luke walking through the diner to the door. She froze as their eyes met and held. Her feet began to move before her brain could issue the command. As she saw him standing still just inside the diner, she felt it again, that sizzle of anger zipping through her veins. When she climbed the steps, he opened the door and let her in.

"I was just locking up. I thought you went home," he said as she passed.

She wanted to slap him. Lorelai curled her fingers into a fist as her side to keep from doing it. She wanted to slap the arrogance right out of him. He'd been waiting for her, watching her, hoping she'd come to him so that he could get laid. He couldn't be bothered to ask her to come by. He wouldn't make the slightest effort to walk over to the party and drag her out of there. But he wanted her here. He wanted her to come here and beg him to want her. _Well, I won't beg_, she decided as she threw her shoulders back. _I won't ask him for anything,_ _I'll take_.

"We have fifteen minutes," she said as she brushed past him, heading for the curtain. She didn't look back to see if he had followed her. When she was halfway up the steps, she heard him behind her, and smiled grimly.

"Fifteen minutes?" he asked as he hurried up the stairs after her.

Lorelai simply nodded and pushed through the frosted glass door into the apartment. "Rory and Lane are at the house," she said as she tossed her purse onto the table and shrugged out of her coat. After draping it over a chair, she kicked off her shoes and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, wriggling them down under her dress. When they fell to the floor, she looked up to find him staring at her in disbelief. "Are you just gonna stand there?" she asked impatiently.

"Um, what's going on?" he asked.

"We have fifteen minutes," she repeated as she took his arm and pulled him over in front of her. She bent her head and began to pull the tab of his belt from the loops, working it quickly free of the buckle and then tearing open the button fly on his jeans.

"Lorelai," he protested as he moved to stop her.

"You don't want to?" she asked, looking up at him at last.

"It's not that," he began.

"Yes or no, Luke, the clock is ticking," she reminded him.

Lorelai could see the confusion and indecision in his eyes as he let go of her hands. He leaned in to kiss her, and she dodged him, moving so that his lips grazed her cheek and jaw. Taking that as a 'yes', she pushed his jeans and briefs down over his hips. She worked them down to his thighs, surprised to find that he wasn't as ready and raring to go as he usually was. Giving him a gentle nudge toward the kitchen chair, she braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down into it as she sank to her knees.

It didn't take much. The moment her lips closed around him, she could feel his body surge and her own body tingle with excitement at the power she wielded over him. His cock swelled against her tongue, filling rapidly as his fingers plunged into her hair. "I wanted you to come over tonight," he murmured, letting her hair sift through his fingers.

Lorelai hummed against him, feeling a rush of heat flooding her body. She took him deeper into her mouth, pulling his groans from him with each stroke of her lips and tongue. When his fingers tightened in her hair, she lifted her head and quickly rolled up to her feet. Luke stared up at her, his blue eyes dark and hazy with desire as he blinked slowly. She raised the hem of her dress, exposing her bare white thighs and the dark thatch of hair to his heated gaze.

"You wanted me?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he answered, reaching out to pull her toward him.

Lorelai stepped back. "You still want me?" she asked in a low, taunting voice.

"God, yes," he growled as she pushed him back against the chair.

Lorelai pressed her lips together as she stared down at him. "Good," she said as she swung one leg over his, turning to face the door as she straddled him.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she bent her knees, lowering herself onto him.

"I want you to fuck me, Duke," she said as she took hold of his cock, and began to impale herself on him.

"Don't start that again," he growled as he reached to steady her hips, guiding her down as a deep groan wrenched from his chest.

Lorelai held her breath until he was all the way inside of her, her ass pressing against the soft cotton of his shirt as she held him there, feeling him pulse against her. "You ready, Duke?" she asked as she circled her hips teasingly.

"Lorelai," he grunted.

"You're right, there's not much time," she said breathlessly. She planted her hands on his knees and pushed off of the floor, beginning to ride him hard and fast. She heard his ragged breathing, and felt his fingers curl into her hips, trying to slow her. "No, Duke, faster, faster," she panted.

He thrust up off of the chair, pushing into her deep and hard and Lorelai moaned. The muscles in her thighs burned with exertion as she continued to ride him wildly, the angle of her body as she pushed onto his knees gave her the friction she craved as his shaft brushed her clit again and again. He continued to thrust into her, using her hips as leverage as he ground against her, his breath escaping in strangled grunts. Lorelai balanced on one hand, reaching up under her dress to stroke her clit as her climax coiled and burned deep inside of her.

She reached for it, every fiber of her being grasping for the release that hovered just out of reach. She felt his body tense and heard him moan her name as he shot into her, the heat of his orgasm burning through her body as she chased after her own. She whimpered in frustration, stroking herself faster and faster as she continued to plunge down onto him. When he reached to cup her breasts, she flailed, batting his hands away. He stilled, and the fact that she knew he was letting her have her way made her boil with uncontained anger. She used it, channeling the heat the flooded through her to focus on getting what she needed. But when she finally broke; it wasn't satisfaction that flowed through her, nor was it pleasure. Lorelai hung her head as she pressed down onto him, waiting for the choking breathlessness to subside, and praying that she'd be able to breathe normally again once the unbearable frustration eased.

Dimly, she felt his fingers trailing down her back, the heat of his palms searing through the thin fabric of her dress. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse with concern.

She raised her chin and turned her head, her gaze falling on the muted television. She blinked at the brightly lit ball that stood tall over Times Square, wishing the damn thing would just snap and fall to the ground, shattering into a billion pieces. Slowly, she pushed herself up off of him; stumbling a little as she moved away, her legs quivering with exhaustion.

"I have to go," she said without turning to look at him.

"Lorelai, wait," Luke implored as he scrambled up off of the chair, yanking his jeans and shorts back over his hips.

She scooped up her panties and shoved them into her coat pocket before swinging the heavy wool up over her shoulders and jamming her arms into the sleeves. Cramming her feet back into her shoes she used her trusty get out of jail free card. "I told Rory I'd be home before the ball dropped."

"Lorelai," he said again as his hands closed around her arms, pulling her back against the solid wall of his chest.

She couldn't help it, he felt so good; warm, solid and strong. He felt like everything she wasn't in that moment, but so desperately wanted to be. She felt him nuzzle her hair, and heard him inhale deeply as he wrapped his arms securely around her waist. "I wish you didn't have to go," he said in a low, husky voice.

Lorelai squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could, trying to steel herself against the lure of him. "I have to," she said at last, reaching for her purse.

"I know." His arms loosened slightly, but he didn't completely relinquish his hold on her.

She knew he was waiting for her to turn to face him, and a little part of her hated him for it. Plastering a smile on her face, she turned and pressed her lips gently to his cheek. "Happy New Year, Luke," she whispered as she backed away.

"Happy New Year," he answered quietly as his arms fell to his sides.

"A new millennium," she said, forcing some enthusiasm into her voice as she reached for the doorknob.

"It's not the new millennium yet," he grumbled, looking down at his feet and then back up at her.

"Close enough," she said with a nod, and then hurried into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her.

**April 2001**

She had been trying so hard to embrace it, this new facet of their friendship. She was trying her very best to let go of that other facet, the one that they couldn't have anymore. He was trying. Lorelai could see that Luke was trying to make things work with Rachel. And even though a little part of her died each time she saw them together; as his friend, she was proud of him. Happy for him. She told herself that she must truly be happy for him because as the days went by, she had to remind herself of the fact that she was happy for him fewer and fewer times.

She had something of her own, such as it was. Max called daily. They talked, or rather he did. Lorelai both anticipated and dreaded those phone calls. She looked forward to them because they proved that she was important to him; important enough for him to make the effort. She dreaded them because the conversations often turned probing. Each day when she hung up she felt as if she had just taken a test, and she wasn't sure if the answers that she had for Mr. Medina would be enough for her to pass or fail. There were times when she wondered uncharitably if he had ganked one of his students' copies of _Cosmo Girl _and was subjecting her to an endless round of 'Are you compatible' quizzes. She knew logically that this was Max's way of taking things slowly, of getting to know each other better before tumbling back into bed again. But as the questions persisted, as he winnowed his way back into her life; Lorelai couldn't help but resent the fact that Max couldn't understand her as easily as Luke did.

She knew that the comparison was unfair. Luke had years of gradual learning and acceptance behind him. It was this realization that made her understand that she simply couldn't compete with Rachel. She had the years with Luke that Lorelai didn't have. She had a deeper relationship, one not based on friendship and an occasional romp in the sack. It was apparent now that Rachel still had his heart, even as he battled through the confusion his convoluted relationship with Lorelai had spawned. Luke was trying and Lorelai felt that she owed it to him, as a true friend, to help him however she could.

She honestly meant to help. She set forth that morning with his credit card tucked into her purse and the sole mission of searching for a present that Rachel would appreciate much more than a set of meowing oven mitts. But as she took her victory lap through Bloomingdale's, she saw a blue shirt hanging on the rack that perfectly matched his eyes. As she tore through the men's department, a niggling little voice told her that it wasn't her job to dress him, it was Rachel's. Lorelai petted and pawed her way through the soft wools and cashmeres, justifying it to herself that this could be just another part of a birthday surprise he could present her with.

_The look of horror on his face as she pulled garment after garment from the bags made her laugh as she hadn't laughed in weeks. The ease with which he allowed her to propel him toward the store room with black suit pants and the startlingly blue shirt in hand made her feel needed. She brushed aside his protests, slipping the suit jacket over the bright blue shirt and standing back to admire her selections, singing her own praises when he refused to do it for her. _

"_Can I change now?" he asked as she fussed with the lapels._

"_Admit it, I did good. Didn't I do good?" she asked Joe, who sat perched at the counter waiting for his lunch._

"_He's stunning," Joe deadpanned, earning a menacing glare from Luke before he turned on his heel and stomped back to the store room._

"_Order up!" Caesar called._

"_Got it," Lorelai answered, hurrying to the window to retrieve Joe's burger. As she set it down in front of him, she saw the sleeve of a black shirt dangling from one of the bags. She quickly snatched it up and hurried for the store room._

"_Hey, before you change, let me just see this shirt with the pants," she called as she barreled into the room. Lorelai pulled up short as Luke turned toward the door, the bright blue shirt hanging unbuttoned over his bare chest._

"_I'm changing here," he hissed._

_Lorelai wet her lips and forced herself to step forward. "I just want you to try this one last shirt," she said as she pushed it at him. _

_Her fingers made contact with the crisp hair on his chest, and she felt a jolt of awareness rocket through her body. She knew instantly that Luke felt the same jolt, because she could feel his heart begin to hammer beneath her knuckles. Her lips parted as her head jerked up; her breath catching in her throat as she glimpsed the unguarded longing in his eyes. He leaned down, and she tipped her head back, breathlessly awaiting the feel of his lips on hers._

"_Hey, you've got customers out here, you know!" Joe shouted._

_Lorelai jerked back, thrusting the shirt into his hands. "I've got it," she murmured and then fled from the room. Her movements were jerky, keeping time with the staccato beat of her heart as she refilled Joe's cup, and then began to shove her purchases back into the bags._

"_What's next?" Joe asked, eying the clothes critically._

"_Black shirt," she mumbled, waiting for the blush in her cheeks to cool._

"_He takes as long as a girl," Joe commented, picking up a fry as he turned toward the door to the back room with mild interest._

_Lorelai knew that she couldn't simply escape now. "Come on!" she called to Luke._

_She had to stifle her smile as he answered, "I hate you, very much." Flashing Joe a grin she shrugged and said, "Save the sweet talk for Rachel. Get out here!"_

_When he appeared, her smile warmed. "Excuse me sir, do you know where Luke is?"_

_"Very funny," he grumbled, glancing down at the black pants and shirt._

_"Oh my God, Luke, is that you?" she gushed playfully, trying to get back on sure footing._

_"I feel ridiculous."_

_"That's because you don't have the belt on," she pronounced as she pulled a new black belt from a bag. "Here," she said as she walked over to him and threaded the belt through the first belt loop._

_"What are you doing?" he hissed._

_"It's called accessorizing."_

_Luke batted her hands away and grabbed the end of the belt. "I can put a belt on by myself, thank you."_

_"Okay, sorry," she said quickly as she stepped back. "Hmm."_

_"What?" he asked suspiciously._

_"I just…" she started and then stopped._

_"What?"_

_Lorelai smiled at him and shrugged. "I just have exceptional taste is all. Turn around."_

_"What?"_

_She made a circling motion with her hand. "I just wanna make sure it all fits. Turn around." As he turned, her smile turned smug. "Uh huh, uh huh," she murmured, nodding approvingly at the way the pants draped over his ass._

_Joe smirked and said, "Hey Fabio, I need the ketchup."_

_Luke sighed. "Can you get that guy some ketchup?" he asked impatiently._

_"Why me?" she retorted._

_"Because if I spill any stuff on this I won't be able to return it."_

_Lorelai rolled her eyes and reached for a ketchup dispenser. "You're not returning those clothes."_

_"Oh, yes I am," he grumbled as he reached for a price tag._

_After giving Joe his ketchup, she reached for the suit jacket. "Here, try on the suit again."  
_

"_I already tried it on twice," Luke argued._

_"I know, but I want to see it with the black shirt."_

_"I'm not wearing a black suit with a black shirt."_

_"Regis does."  
_

"_Okay, you've won me over now," he muttered under his breath._

_" Just try on the jacket again," she said as she held it open for him._

_"This is how you like your guys, all GQ'ed up, huh?" he asked as he slid his arms into the jacket.  
_

"_It's not GQ'ed up, it's just a little less casual," she told him.  
_

"_And you don't like casual."_

_"I like casual fine."_

_"Just not on me," he grumbled._

_Lorelai had to smile as she heard the note of petulance in his tone. "No, it just adds variety. It's not let's make a new Luke, its let's see another side of the old one."_

_"Uh huh," he grunted dubiously, watching as she fussed with the hem of the suit coat._

_"You missed a loop. Come here," she said as she tugged at his belt. "What did you do?"_

_The bells rang, and Luke's head jerked up. "Oh, hi," he said as he spotted Rachel in the doorway._

_Lorelai frowned as she felt him tense and looked up to see who the newcomer was. "Oh, hi. Uh, this is not what it looks like," she babbled as she moved away from Luke._

_"It looks like you're dressing him," Rachel observed coolly._

_A nervous laugh bubbled up past the lump that seemed permanently lodged in her throat whenever the other woman was nearby. "Then this is exactly what it looks like," she tried to joke._

_"There was a sale at Bloomingdale's and she…" Luke tried to explain._

_"Six trillion percent off," Lorelai interjected._

_"How can you walk away from that, huh?" he said with a breathy chuckle. When Rachel continued to stare at them impassively, he jerked a thumb toward the back room and said, "I'm gonna change now."_

_Lorelai hurried to the counter and unearthed her purse from under the bags. "Good, uh, I'm gonna get Rory and just… Enjoy the clothes," she said with a brisk nod.  
_

"_I will," Luke answered._

_"Okay good. See you later Rachel," she said as she brushed past Luke's girlfriend._

_"Bye," Rachel said, still staring at Luke quizzically._

_Lorelai paused in the doorway for a second and then muttered, "Bye," before making her escape._

Lorelai pressed her head back into the couch cushion, listening to the silent house settle around her. Rory was gone. She'd run away to Hartford, to the safety of Lorelai's parents' house. Her daughter had run to the very place Lorelai herself had run from so long ago. When she realized that Rory was gone, her first impulse was to call Luke. Of course, she squashed that quickly. She knew without a doubt that Luke would drop whatever he was doing and rush over. She also knew that she couldn't do that to him. Not only had they come far too close for comfort that day, but she knew that Luke would be beside himself with worry. She pictured him racing all over town, banging on doors and checking behind every shrub for any sign of her daughter, and she knew she simply couldn't do that to him.

Rory was her responsibility and hers alone. The shame she felt in hiding her tenuous relationship with Max from her daughter and the upset that it had caused was too intense. She couldn't let Luke see how badly she had screwed everything up. She couldn't stand the humiliation of knocking the pedestal he had put her relationship with Rory on out from under him. So instead, she called Sookie and then Max, hoping that cooler heads would prevail, and that somehow she could find her daughter and salvage the tattered shreds of her pride.

And now, Max had gone, Sookie had gone, and Rory was safely tucked away in the bedroom Lorelai had escaped from too many times to count. Just weeks ago, her father had caught her climbing out that very window. Just weeks ago she escaped home to Stars Hollow, only to realize that it was no longer the haven she had thought it was. Lorelai pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, trying to make sense of where she had gone so terribly wrong.

**March 2000**

_Mahatma Gandhi had nothing on Luke Danes_, she decided as she watched him move around the diner, clearing the dishes from the last of the tables.

Luke's particular brand of passive resistance in the weeks and months following their New Year's Eve encounter was making her crazy. He smiled at her when she came into the diner. He grumbled and complained as he served her food. He made snarky comments and laughed at hers as if nothing had happened. He never asked her what was wrong. He never hinted that anything could be amiss between them. He never knocked on her door, or asked when he'd see her again. Instead, he stood behind his counter, watching her and waiting.

It was as infuriating as it was arousing. He was Everest, and she yearned to conquer him. She wanted him to ask. Her ego demanded that she make him plead. She wanted him to want her as badly as she wanted him, but no matter how outrageously she flirted, cajoled, or tormented him, he never flinched. It made her itch to break him. She felt like a tourist mugging shamelessly in the face of the guards at Buckingham Palace. All she wanted was to see him crack, and she was determined that tonight would be the night.

"So, where's Rory tonight?" he asked as he wiped down the counter.

"It's Spring Break. She's spending the night with Lane," she answered, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I see," he said as he straightened up. When she looked into his eyes, she could see the unspoken question there as plain as day. All she wanted was for him to speak it. She held his gaze, trying to keep her expression as neutral as his, and seething on the inside when she realized that her eyes had betrayed her bland countenance. "Let me just lock up," he said with a nod.

"Oh, did you want me to stay?" she asked innocently as he walked to the door.

Luke hesitated, his hand on the lock. "Do you want to stay?" he countered.

Lorelai blinked. "That's not what I asked."

Luke turned the lock and walked back over to where she sat perched on her stool. "It's up to you," he said simply, and then walked toward the curtain that hid the stairs to his apartment, leaving her to make her choice.

Lorelai stared at the door, weighing her options even though she knew that her answer was a foregone conclusion. She swiveled on the stool, watching as the curtain swayed back into place, and feeling the anger roiling in the pit of her stomach. She leapt from the stool and dashed after him.

"We don't have to do this, you know!" she shouted as she chased him up the stairs.

"Up to you," he called back from his apartment.

Lorelai stopped in the doorway, her chest heaving as she clung to the frame. Luke stood in the center of the room, his hat tossed onto the chair and his flannel already unbuttoned. "Damn it, Luke!" she shouted as she stomped into the apartment.

"What? Isn't this what you wanted, Lorelai? No strings, no questions, just an available body!" he said, flinging his arms out wide.

"What the hell is your problem?" she demanded, stunned by his apparent anger.

"My problem?" he retorted. "I'm just doing what you want, Lorelai! You have an itch, I'm here to scratch it. Wasn't that the deal?"

"Go to hell," she spat.

"What? What did I do wrong?" he ranted. "I did just what you wanted me to do!" He reached for the buckle on his belt and asked, "You wanna do this or not? Totally your call."

"This was a mistake!"

"You're damn right it was!" he roared. "I'm sorry, Lorelai, I guess I'm just not cut out to be your boy toy. I don't like feeling like a piece of meat. I don't like you screwing me and then screwing with my head!"

"How did I screw with your head?"

"You come here wanting me to touch you, wanting me to hold you, and I do, but you don't even know who I am," he yelled. "My name is Luke, not Duke, and I'm not on the fucking menu for you to order up any time you feel like it!"

"When I feel like it?" she screeched. "What the hell did you expect? You never come to me! You never make the move! It's always me, Luke! You wanna know what it's like to feel like trash? You go begging someone to sleep with you! See how that feels!" she shouted. Lorelai whirled and ran from the apartment, slamming the door behind her so hard that the glass rattled in its frame.

She heard his boots rumbling down the stairs as she grabbed her purse from the counter and bolted for the door. Unshed tears blurred her vision as she fumbled with the lock.

"I told you that you'd have to come to me," he said breathlessly.

Lorelai froze for a moment, and then slowly turned to look at him. "It won't happen again," she said in a choked voice.

He crossed the diner, shaking his head as he reached for her. "Lorelai, don't," he said quietly, his hand closing around her arm.

She swiped at her tears with the heel of her hand. "Just let me go," she whispered.

"I can't. Hey, don't cry," he said as he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "You came here," he said gruffly as he kissed her hair. "I want you to stay."

"You do?" she asked warily.

"Yes."

His voice broke over the word, and Lorelai closed her eyes, trying to decide if it was enough of a break. He kissed her forehead tenderly, and then framed her face in his hands, tipping her head back to capture her lips. His kiss was so sweet that it made her heart ache, his fingers slid into her hair and she felt herself melting into him, his heart beat wildly against her chest, and when his hand slid down her arm and his fingers closed over hers, she knew that she had lost.

Without a word, he pulled her gently toward the stairs. Lorelai followed him back up to his apartment, knowing that it was the worst thing she could possibly do. She stood docilely next to his bed, accepting his kisses as he peeled her clothes from her body, knowing that she wanted him too badly to say no, and despising her own weakness. She stroked his skin, feeling it glide against hers as he kissed her lips, her neck, her breasts and her stomach, committing the texture of it to memory. She willingly gave up every moan, every sigh, and every gasp of pleasure, knowing it was the very least she could give him, but wanting to give so much more. She squeezed her eyes shut as he entered her, wondering how anything that felt so right could still feel so wrong. And after she shuddered beneath him, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, her body clinging to his as he emptied into her; she stared up at the ceiling, feeling him slip away from her once again.

Lorelai curled against him, her fingers sifting through the hair on his chest and stomach as she listened to the steady beat of his heart. They didn't talk. She didn't tell him about the costumes she had made for the high school drama club in hopes of securing glowing recommendations to accompany Rory's application to the Chilton Academy. He didn't tell her about the latest fundraising scheme he had overheard Taylor outlining to Miss Patty. Lorelai hung onto him, reveling in the feel of his arms around her as she closed her eyes.

When she opened them again hours later, he snored softly beside her. Carefully, she slipped out from under his arm and sat on the side of the bed staring down at him. Her body felt sluggish, her muscles aching from their clandestine activities. She looked down at her body, wondering how it would feel to not have that ache, to have someone in her bed each night, and if her muscles would become as accustomed to it as her heart surely would. She studied his face in the dim glow from the streetlights and sighed tiredly.

Silently she eased from the bed and began to gather her clothes. Luke rolled onto his back, his fingers splaying over his stomach and rubbing it absently in his sleep. She dressed quickly; hoping to leave without waking him, and knowing that she didn't have the energy to resist if he came after her again. Holding her shoes in her hand, she looked down at him, the corners of her mouth curving into a sad smile as she marveled at how peaceful he looked when he slept.

Bending at her waist, she leaned down and brushed the barest of kisses to his forehead before walking to the door. As she pulled it closed behind her, she told herself that she wouldn't be back, that she simply did not have the stamina to chase after him. "It won't happen again," she whispered into the darkened apartment, and then pulled the door closed quietly behind her.

**April 2001**

Unable to stand the silence any longer, Lorelai pushed off of the couch and walked over to the CD stand in the corner. She ran her finger along the jewel cases as she read the titles, searching for one in particular. When she found what she was looking for, she dropped the disc into the player, feeling a twinge of perverse pleasure in the pain she was about to inflict on herself.

_Bad decisions_, she thought as she studied the track numbers. Sleeping with Luke was a bad decision, but it ranked nowhere near the disaster that falling for Luke turned out to be. After she left him fast asleep that night, she resolved to get her personal life on track. She no longer went into the diner alone at closing time. She no longer flirted quite so outrageously. She didn't hold his gaze for a beat too long, and she didn't allow her eyes to stray toward the curtain they had disappeared through countless times. She noted with grim satisfaction that as the weeks and months passed, his devastating smiles and delightful scowls became more and more infrequent, gradually being replaced by stony stoicism and studiously bland indifference.

Still, she couldn't help slapping at that indifference a little. She told him when that Chilton dad drove to Stars Hollow to ask her out, and was gratified to see a flicker of heat in his eyes. She kept her mouth carefully shut when Max came on the scene, letting the infamous Stars Hollow grapevine do her dirty work for her. When her dad fell ill at Christmas time, he drove her to the hospital, no questions asked. And when she felt her control slipping, she let herself be comforted by him as a friend who was just a friend would.

She had almost convinced herself that they would survive it, that their friendship could continue as it always had without paying the price for the extra benefits that they had reaped. And then everything spun out of control.

She consoled herself that she had made the right decision after hearing Rory's vehement opposition when Lorelai dared to ask her opinion on the possibility of dating Luke. Even more frightening was the fact that Rory seemed to be accepting Max as a part of their lives much faster than she was herself. She'd had to put a stop to that. Sookie and Jackson finally got it together enough to go on their first date, but not without dragging Lorelai and Jackson's cousin Rune along on a farce of a double date that Blake Edwards would have killed to have the rights to film. She sat on a stool at Luke's counter, trying to give the new couple a little space, and for one heart-stopping moment it seemed that Luke had decided to finally make a move. And then, he didn't. She cursed Mrs. Kim and her impeccable timing for days after that.

Then, she was hit with a double whammy. First, it was Luke's violent reaction to a sweatshirt she had liberated from a rummage sale bag. Her subsequent discovery that the sweatshirt had probably belonged to the heretofore unnamed Rachel sent her reeling. Then, there was the humiliation of realizing that Luke had every reason in the world to interpret her innocent call for help as a possible booty call. Lorelai steadfastly ignored Sookie and everyone else when they tried to imply that Luke might have feelings for her, Lorelai knew better.

By the time Christopher rode into town, she already beginning to doubt the wisdom of every decision she had ever made. Listening to her parents and his rehash the sins two teenagers had committed sixteen years before, and the fact that, despite all that she had accomplished, she continued to be a disappointment to her parents, made it even more unbearable. She retreated to her room as she had always done, and climbed out onto the balcony. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she tipped her face up to the moon, willing the chilly spring wind to wash away the waves of self-doubt that crashing relentlessly against her. Unfortunately, she hadn't had enough time to regain her composure when Christopher followed her through that window, and she knew that there wasn't enough tequila in that bottle to blame for her own inherent weakness.

As long as she lived, she'd never forget the flash of pain in Luke's eyes as she stood shivering in front of him in her pajamas, or the sharp sting of his voice as he quietly concluded that someone else that was the reason she had let him down. The disappointment in his voice cut her to the quick. Her disappointment in herself drove her to subject herself to a healthy dose of self-inflicted punishment in his apartment a few nights later. She tried to deny herself any pleasure she might feel as his hands moved over her body, and failed. She had to deny herself the taste of his lips, because she knew deep down that she didn't deserve, and probably wouldn't survive, the tenderness of his kisses. She left him that night feeling even more empty than she had when she appeared, and considered it ample reparation for any damage her negligence may have done. After all, she and she alone knew what it had cost her to go to him that night. And as she lay awake in her bed trying to forget all over again what he felt like, how he tasted, and how much she wanted him, she decided that couldn't take it anymore.

The music played through the speakers, but Lorelai hardly noticed as she fell back onto the sofa, cushioning her head against the arm rest. Instead of Prince and the Revolution, she heard the silence of Rory's absence and the dull thud of her own pulse in her ears. She closed her eyes, recalling her careful planning, the speech she had rehearsed over and over again in her head, and the list of damn good reasons that he should love her back that she was prepared to argue if necessary. It would be perfect; Rory would be out with Dean, the town would be immersed in the Firelight Festival, and if she could just survive Friday night dinner with her parents without Rory as a buffer, she would go to Luke Danes the moment it was over and tell him that she loved him.

A single tear seeped from her eye as she stared up at the ceiling listening to Prince screech that that times were changing and that it was time to reach out for something new. She pressed her lips together and blinked back the tears that threatened, telling herself that she should be thankful. Thankful she hadn't been crushed by a papier mache star, and Rory hadn't been orphaned. Thankful that she and Luke hadn't had the chance to mercilessly mock people who said, 'Hey, how's it going?' She was thankful that her baby was safe and warm in her mother's childhood bed at that moment. Thankful that Rachel had walked back into the diner on that particular day and not a day later. Thankful that Max had decided that she was worthy of a second chance, and thankful that her friend, Luke, was finally getting what his heart desired.

As Prince droned on and on about the purple rain that apparently plagued Minneapolis, she swung her legs from the couch and lurched for the stereo, jamming her finger at the stop button repeatedly before pressing eject. She yanked the disc from the player and glared at it for a moment, recalling how close she had come that day to trying to steal Luke from another. She had no right to do that, not to him, not to Rachel and not to herself. She still needed him to be her friend.

Lorelai's fingers curled around the disc for a moment, and then she hurled it against the wall with all her might, breaking down and letting the tears she had held back all night flow freely as she prayed that her lapse in judgment didn't mean that their friendship had to end, because even Prince himself thought that would be a shame.

_tbc_


	7. Reasonable and Customary Charges

**A/N: I'd like to thank you all for hanging in here with me on this story. We are drawing to the end, but alas, I couldn't quite get there yet. Bear with me, there should only be one more chapter to go.**

**Reasonable and Customary Charges**

**April 2001**

She told herself that she needed to pull on some Nikes and just do it. She told herself that it was better to know now and get it over with, that way she'd know how to proceed. She sat the in gazebo for a minute, simply watching him through the window. She could make it quick, almost painless. She had to know, because not knowing was making her crazy. Or, it could be the sleep deprivation. Lorelai forced herself to look away from the diner, her eyes trailing random passersby as they went about their business, skipping along like the thoughts skittering through her head.

_I hope Rory slept well. I hope she snuggled down in those five hundred thread count sheets and pressed her peaches and cream cheek deep into that eiderdown pillow_, she thought bitterly. _One of us should sleep_.

Lorelai sighed, looking down at the toes of her distinctly non-Nike shoes as she reminded herself that she wasn't really mad at Rory. She was a little, and she felt that she was justified in that. The running away part was pretty bad. And running away to her parents' house, well, that was almost unthinkable. It also made Lorelai feel a touch resentful, because now she would feel even more indebted to her parents. Pile a heaping helping of disappointment on top of that little bit of anger and the touch resentment, and that would pretty much the stew that was bubbling away inside of her at the moment. She was a little mad, a little resentful and a little disappointed in Rory. And herself. Rory and Lorelai, Lorelai and Rory; they were always tangled up in each other, and she was disappointed in both of them. Lorelai also knew that if Rory actually was anything like her mother; she'd take the anger and resentment a lot easier than the disappointment.

No matter how badly she wanted to stay out of it, Lorelai couldn't help blaming Dean for part of this whole mess. It boggled her mind that a boy who seemed so completely enamored with her beautiful daughter could treat her this way. She didn't know how he could stand to stay away from her. She'd never comprehend how someone who so clearly wore his heart on his sleeve could suddenly pull an about face and completely cut that person from his life. Cut _Rory_ out of his life. It was a complete mystery to her.

Lorelai looked up and saw Luke standing at the end of the counter staring out at the square. _Speaking of mysteries_, she thought with a wry smile. For a moment, she thought he saw her. When she tried to lift her hand to wave, she found she couldn't make it budge.

She couldn't move. The disappointment was weighing her down, keeping her planted on this bench instead of moving forward with her life as she knew she should. She felt that she was a disappointment in her own failures as a mother, as a lover and as a friend. She accepted the sharp stab of disappointment she felt at the stunning discovery that her oh-so-grown-up little girl wasn't quite as mature as they both had thought; but a vague, aching disappointment gnawing in her stomach told her that maybe that her little girl's mother may not be all that grown up either. Worst of all, was the disappointment she felt in knowing that Rory had run to the one place she knew Lorelai would never understand, and she did it to hurt her. She thought of the way Luke glanced over at her whenever Rachel touched him or he draped his arm over the other woman's shoulders, and Lorelai couldn't help thinking that he was rubbing it in a little. Suddenly, it seemed that everyone she loved wanted to hurt her somehow, and the very thought it that made tears burn behind her eyes.

Okay, so, she had a few issues to work out with Rory; that much was obvious. But for all of the anger, resentment and disappointment mixing and mingling inside of her, the one thing that Lorelai was absolutely sure of was that she and Rory would work it out. They'd talk, maybe shout a little, but in the end, it would all be okay.

She wasn't so sure about Luke. Lorelai found herself staring at the diner again, watching dispassionately as Luke moved from table to table. She needed to know if they were too far gone. She needed to know, but she didn't want to know. _What if he said they were? What if he told her that they couldn't be friends anymore? What if he said that she shouldn't come in there, that he couldn't be a part of her life, their lives, anymore?_ she fretted.

It was almost too painful to think about, but at the same time, it was all she could think about. _How would she explain that to Rory? How could she even begin to make sense of it all? Didn't her realize how much that would hurt? Did he even care?_

Lorelai shook her head, trying desperately to dislodge the disturbing thoughts before they took root. _No, I just need to go in there and get it over with. Be quick about it, like ripping off a band-aid or yanking out a loose tooth. Better to just get it over with, that way I can figure out what to do from there._

Lorelai stood up and walked slowly from the gazebo, picking up speed as she crossed the grass, cutting straight across to Luke's. The bells announced her arrival and Luke stepped out of the kitchen just as she dropped down onto her usual stool. She saw him draw up short, and then his brow creased as he looked at her.

"Geez, what happened to you?" he asked with his usual aplomb.

"A happy 'how do you do' to you too," she muttered.

Luke reached for a mug and the coffee pot and poured without bothering to ask. "Sorry, you just look bad."

"Well I didn't get much sleep last night," she said tiredly.

"Why not?"

Lorelai lifted one eyebrow as she looked up. When he stared back impassively, she blurted, "Rory and I had a fight and she ran away."

"What!" he gasped. "Where? Did you…" he began, panic coloring his voice.

"She's fine. She's at my mother's."

"Sheesh, throw that information in with the first part. You'll scare a person to death," he grumbled as he grabbed his trusty rag and began swiping away at the counter.

Lorelai watched him for a moment, oddly soothed by the familiar movements of someone else's nervous habit. "You know, I got in my car three times to go get her. I drove halfway there and drove back, drove halfway there and drove back. I actually ran of gas driving halfway there and back," she confessed.

Luke nodded his understanding. "She'll cool off and come home."

"I know," she sighed. "Just, breaking up with Dean has been so hard on her."

"Yeah."

"I just hate that she's going through this. I mean, she's such a good kid. She's so nice to everyone, she cares about everyone. And she's walking around in this unbelievable pain and there's nothing I can do about it," she said helplessly. Lorelai looked up and saw the same futility reflected back at her in Luke's eyes. "She still won't talk to me. She won't tell me what happened."

Luke's jaw tightened as he gripped the rag tightly. "I'll tell you what happened. That Dean kid is a jerk and he finally let her know it."

Closing her eyes for just a second, Lorelai gave in to the pleasure of finally having a comrade in arms back. "I wish I could just pinch his head right off," she hissed.

"I'll help," Luke offered with a nod.

Shaking her head she said, "I warned him. I warned him when I first met him, if he hurt her…" Lorelai trailed off, knowing that there was nothing that she could do to Dean, just as there had been nothing she could do to shield Rory from the pain. "Agh. Maybe I could key his car," she said lamely.

"Or better yet, you can key Taylor's car and tell him Dean did it," Luke suggested.

Lorelai brightened at the thought, glad to have him on board for today's round of hatred and loathing. "Yeah, that'd be good."

Luke nodded emphatically. "You can key Taylor's car, tell him Dean did it and also tell him that Dean littered and walks his dog without a leash."

"He'll run him out of town," she crowed.

"Good."

She smiled at him warmly, her cheeks flushing when his smile returned the same affection. She glanced down at her barely touché coffee mug and said, "All right. I should go. Rory's probably out of school by now and I want to be home in case she decides to call," she explained as she reached for her purse.

"Coffee's on the house."

"Oh, thanks," she said softly as she stood up. Forcing her eyes up from the formica counter, she noticed a little something different about Luke. "Hey, is that the belt I bought you?"

"Oh! Yeah, yeah, yeah. The old one broke," he said offhandedly.

Lorelai smiled smugly. "Oh, lucky you happened to have a spare."

"Yeah," he agreed as she started for the door. "Hey," he called out, stopping her in her tracks. "She'll be home soon," he reassured her.

Lorelai nodded silently, and then slipped out of the door, exhaling her relief as she started for home.

****

Luke looked down at the belt tucked into the loops of his grease spattered jeans and wondered how someone went about actually 'breaking' a leather belt. Granted, his old one was worn and cracked and the leather was getting frayed along the edges, but it was far from broken. He's knows that he should feel guilty for pulling this belt out of the Bloomingdale's bags piled on his sofa. He _does_ feel guilty for waiting until Rachel went into the bathroom before winding his own belt into a tight coil and hiding it behind a sledge hammer that has sat undisturbed in his closet since construction on the diner ended. The bells rang out, jolting him from his thoughts, and a fresh rush of guilt took form in a pink flush that sufficed his cheeks.

"Hey," Rachel said softly as she walked toward him, her camera swinging from her neck. "Still not feeling so good, huh?" she asked, pressing her fingertips to his warm cheek.

"Hey," he croaked, and then cleared his throat. "I'm okay."

"Throat still sore?" she asked worriedly.

"Uh, um, a little," he answered as he stepped back. When she let her hand fall to her side, he shrugged and forced a weak smile. "I don't want you to catch whatever this is."

Rachel nodded. "You should sleep in the bed. You couldn't have gotten very much rest last night."

Shaking his head adamantly, Luke gave her wrist a gentle squeeze. "Sorry about dinner."

"Dinner was fine," she said quickly.

"I know I wasn't very good company, and it was your birthday," he said, another flash of guilt twisting the knife in his gut a little harder.

"We'll have a do over when you're feeling better."

Luke nodded again. "Good. That would be good."

"You go upstairs and lie down for a little bit. I'll keep an eye on things down here," she told him.

"You don't have to…"

"Luke, go," she said firmly as she lifted the camera from her chest and ducked out from under the strap. "Take this up for me?"

Luke took the camera from her, cradling it gently but securely in both hands. "Come and get me if it gets busy?" he asked.

"Go. Caesar and I can handle it. You shouldn't be down here if you aren't feeling well, anyway."

"Thanks," he said gruffly as he turned on his heel and walked quickly toward the curtain.

Anxious to make his escape and faintly excited about having his own apartment to himself for a while, he climbed the stairs quickly. He placed her camera on the table, knowing that she was particular about her equipment, and inexplicably wary of placing it in the soft leather camera bag that Lorelai had picked out as Rachel's birthday present. The guilt ground away at his insides as he looked down at the bag.

He didn't know why he did it, but before he could stop himself, he lifted the bag and held it up to his nose; inhaling deeply, just as Lorelai had. His fingers tightened on the buttery smooth leather, and then flexed, releasing the bag as if it had seared his skin. He winced as it dropped to the chair with a thud, and closed his eyes, praying there hadn't been lenses or something breakable in the bottom. He pawed through it quickly, reassuring himself that he hadn't harmed anything, and then backed away from the table holding his hands up in surrender.

Luke trudged to the bed, dropping down onto the squishy soft mattress and feeling it bounce back under his weight. He didn't bother removing his boots before falling back onto the pillow and staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to so badly that they ached. But he couldn't close his eyes. If he did, he'd see Lorelai standing there with his shirt in her hands, he'd feel her fingers brushing against his chest, he'd taste her lips on his.

So close. They had come so close to breaking one of the rules, probably the biggest rule. They'd come within centimeters, no, probably millimeters of smashing that rule to pieces. All he knew for sure was that it was a hell of a lot closer than inches. Luke covered his eyes with his hand, still refusing to close them, but shielding them from the sunlight that streamed through his windows.

Luke knew he'd already broken some of the rules. He knew he'd definitely broken the second one. He was living his life ruled by guilt. He wanted to tie Lorelai up in so many strings that she'd never get free. And worst of all, he had let himself have hopes and expectations. The third rule, the one about the head games, well, they had both tossed that one out of the window a long time ago. He could admit that, even if Lorelai couldn't. And then yesterday, they'd come within a breath, literally, of squashing the simplest rule. He knew without a doubt that in that moment neither of them had particularly cared if Rachel was in the picture or not.

This didn't sit well with Luke. Luke liked to follow the rules. He liked an orderly life. He liked to know that things would be the way that they were supposed to be. For that reason alone, he clung steadfast and true to rule number one. He would be her friend, just her friend, always her friend, for as long as she wanted him to be. For his own sanity, he held on tightly to his own rule too. He wouldn't chase her down, he wouldn't seek her out, and he wouldn't beg her to love him the way that he loved her. He'd done that once, and he didn't think he could go through that again. No, he'd learned that lesson long ago from the woman that was at that moment tying his apron strings snugly around her own waist.

_He'd tracked her down in San Francisco, just before she was set to leave for the Philippines on a free-lance assignment. He sat alone in a house that had once held his entire family, and realized that he was the only one left. In a moment of profound loneliness, or possibly simple weakness, he'd called the number she had left in her note. _

_He'd called that number, his voice breaking as he told her that he loved her and needed her, that he wanted to marry her, and begged her to come home. He'd listened quietly as she listed all of her reasons for going. He'd swallowed the lump in his throat and whispered the only word he could form when she asked him to come with her to see the world, 'No.' _

_For months after that phone call he'd received postcards from far-flung corners of the world that sounded like an international version of David Allen Coe's 'Please Come to Boston,' but in reverse. She asked him to join her for Thai in Thailand, she wanted him to walk the black sand beaches on Bali with her, and offered to teach him to surf off the coast of Australia. Each postcard was signed with a simple, 'R' and the same telephone number he had dialed months before._

_Late one night, the phone jolted him from his sleep. When he barked his greeting, she simply laughed, her voice flowing warm and soft over the line, seeping into his pores. "Have I tempted you yet?" she asked at last._

"_No," he answered honestly._

"_Luke, you say that you love me, that you want me to be happy…"_

"_I do," he insisted._

"_This is what makes me happy. I tried it your way, can't you at least try it mine?" she asked reasonably._

_Luke chewed the thought over for a moment and then answered softly, "No."_

"_So, it's your way or no way at all," Rachel demanded._

"_It's not that," he tried to protest._

"_Oh, yes it is," she snapped, and the conversation spiraled out of control from there._

_He'd curled his hands into fists as he sat with the phone tucked against his shoulder and his eyes screwed tightly shut, letting her words roll off of him as she railed at him; calling him selfish, narrow-minded, and even misogynistic. He'd made a mental note to look that one up as she claimed he wanted her to abandon her dreams to live his. He'd sat as still as a stone as she detailed all of the ways that his dreams were too small for her. And when she finally took a breath, he exhaled slowly and rubbed his hand across his eyes. _

"_You're right," he told her gruffly._

_His admission gave her pause. "I am?" Rachel asked._

"_You need to live your life the way you want to live it."_

_A hiss of static punctuated his statement as the silence hung between them. "Without you?" she asked almost fearfully._

_Luke wet his lips and nodded, knowing that she couldn't see him. He cleared his throat and said, "My roots are here. I've never wanted to be anywhere but here."_

"_You've never tried," she argued._

"_I don't have to try. I like having roots, Rachel. I need them."_

"_Those aren't roots, Luke. Those are cement blocks tied to your feet," she said angrily._

"_Maybe to you they are, but they're my cement blocks." When she seemed to have no reply to that, he sighed softly and hung his head. "Goodbye, Rachel. Thanks for calling, travel safe," he said quietly before hanging up._

Luke lowered his hand, pulling on his cheeks as he blinked into the late afternoon light and stroking his jaw with his thumb and forefinger. Over and over again, they went through the same thing. Over and over again he'd let himself believe that this time things would be different. Over and over again, she'd proven him wrong. Or, right, depending on how he looked at it. And now, she was back again, and even Luke had to admit that this attempt seemed more sincere.

Rolling onto his side, he flung one arm up over his head to shield his eyes from the sun. He lay still, focusing on breathing in and exhaling slowly. As his pulse slowed and his breathing grew deep and even, Luke wondered if this new sincerity was because she sensed that she'd lost her grip on his strings. He couldn't help but think that this time was indeed different. He also couldn't help thinking that Rachel was trying harder because she knew that, this time, he wouldn't.

****

It was stunning to her. She'd tried so hard. She'd done everything that her parents had never done. When Rory was still an infant, Lorelai had promised herself that her daughter would never doubt her love for her. She vowed that Rory would never be made to feel that she was a disappointment, that her best efforts weren't good enough, or that she should try to be anything other than who she was. She'd tried so hard to be everything that her own parents were not; supportive, understanding, accepting. Maybe that's why it hurt so badly to know that she had failed the one person she never dreamed she would let down.

_I would hate to think that I raised a kid who couldn't say I love you._

Lorelai winced, using the blow of her own words to propel her over onto the other pillow, closing her eyes as she pressed her cheek to the cool cotton pillowcase.

_My point is that it's scary to be in love, that much I know, but it's also wonderful and special_… _Such sage understanding, such open acceptance_, she mocked herself mercilessly.

Rory had hit the nail right on the head as she asked, 'Are you ready for that moment when it happens?' Lorelai had answered as honestly as she could, 'I'm working on it.'

Of course, she'd had to deflect it with a joke about the dress she'd be wearing. If she were going to be totally honest, she'd have to admit that she probably wouldn't have been wearing anything at all if she had dared to let her heart speak.

"_I know what you do to me," she had whispered, brushing his softly curling hair back over his ear. "You make me feel…"_

"Loved," Lorelai whispered to her pillow. She opened her eyes and tried to blink back the rush of tears that threatened as she found the other side of that pillow empty.

There in the dark, all alone in her room, Lorelai Gilmore wished that she had the courage to have said what her heart wanted to say in that moment. She burrowed into her pillow, wondering if it would have made any difference if she had. _Would her feelings for Luke, and whatever feelings he may have for her hold up against his love for Rachel? Would the promise of her very best be enough for him? If he knew who she really was, would he be disappointed?_

Lorelai knew that these questions didn't matter anymore. She hadn't let her heart have its say. Instead, she'd guarded it jealously, cloaking it in pride, and hiding it under a thin veneer of flirtation, seduction and false bravado. She promised herself that she wouldn't make the same mistake again. She vowed that she'd be open to the possibility of love, even if it meant the probability that she could be found wanting. She had to learn to take the risk, because there was more at stake here than the possibility of a broken heart.

Children learn from their parents. Although she had done her very best to ensure that her daughter never doubted her love for her, Lorelai knew without a shadow of the doubt that she had failed Rory in the larger lesson. She hugged her pillow tightly as she decided that it was time to break out her old copy of _Abbey Road, _and let the Fab Four school them both in one of life's most important lessons.

_It's time for the Gilmore Girls to put their fears behind them,_ she told herself firmly. _Because in the end,_ _John and Paul want is to know that the love you take is equal to the love you make._

Lorelai smiled as she closed her eyes as she flopped over onto her back and flung her arms wide across the empty bed, singing softly, "Ahhh-ahhhh," as George Harrison's guitar gently wept the accompaniment in her head.

****

He dreamed he was smothering. Every night, the same dream. The first night, he tried to tell himself that it was because he woke up face down on the couch, sucking in the sour taste of ancient leather. The next night, he woke up coughing, choking on something that wasn't there.

The coughing turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because it earned him another night on the couch. That night, he saw them; the pleased smiles on their faces as they passed by one by one peering down at him, telling him how happy he must be. Luke tried to tell them that they had it all wrong, but the words wouldn't come out. He tried to climb out of the deep hole he had dug for himself with his own two hands, clawing at a sheer wall of dirt that disintegrated into dust the moment he touched it.

The following morning he tried to replicate the cough, but unfortunately, he had never been a very good actor. He saw Rachel's eyes cut to him as she rolled from his bed and padded toward the bathroom. The moment, the door closed behind her, he dropped back down onto the couch and flung his arms up over his head, letting a wave of shame wash over him. When she stepped out of the bathroom, he stood up and smiled as he passed her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked solicitously.

"Better today," he answered, closing himself into the bathroom before she could question him further.

Once the morning rush had passed, Luke ducked into the kitchen to tell Caesar that he'd be out for a couple of hours. He went up to the apartment to retrieve his toolbox and found Rachel sitting at the table sliding contact sheets into plastic sleeves. "Hey," he said, his steps slowing as he entered the apartment.

"How's it going?" she asked.

Luke stifled a smirk at her question and he walked to the closet. "I promised Rory I'd fix that loose gutter on the house. It scrapes against the house when the wind blows and creeps her out," he said with a shrug. "I figured I'd take care of that before the lunch rush."

"Oh, okay."

"What's your plan for the day?" he asked as he hefted his toolbox.

"Um, I thought I'd shoot a couple of rolls down by the lake, see if the Armbrusters feel like walking the walk."

"The Armbrusters?"

"Mean duck family," she said with a shrug.

"Ah, yes. Okay, well, I'll see you later," he said as he leaned down and pecked a brotherly kiss to her forehead.

"Yeah, see you later," Rachel said, her voice trailing off as the door closed behind him.

It was so quiet at Lorelai's house. Rory was at school and Lorelai at work, and for the first time in weeks he felt like he could breathe freely.

He dreamed again that night. His friends and neighbors filed past, one after another, telling him how happy he must be and how happy they were for him. He wanted to tell them, he needed to make them understand; but when he opened his mouth he found himself choking on a mouthful of dirt and debris. He sat up in bed, his body wracked with coughs. Rachel sat up too; her hand rubbing his back, trying to soothe away the spasms. Luke swung his legs over the side and lurched up off of the bed, shuffling to the sink to run a glass of water straight from the tap. Rachel watched as he gulped the entire glass down in three large gulps.

"Are you okay?" she asked as he slammed the glass down on the counter a tad too forcefully.

"I just, uh, there's this…" he said, gesturing vaguely to his throat.

Rachel stood up and took her pillow from the bed. His brow furrowed as he watched her carry it to the couch. The leather creaked as she stretched out and pulled his mother's afghan down over her legs. "Get some sleep," she said firmly, settling into her pillow.

Luke nodded once and then said, "Sorry I woke you up," as he padded back to the bed.

He had an early bread delivery the next morning. By the time he had everything put away, Rachel came down the stairs. "Hey. Sorry, I tried to be quiet," he said gruffly.

"I just thought I'd help out this morning," she said, accepting the mug of coffee he poured for her.

Luke paused for a moment and then said, "Hey, that would be great. Listen, Caesar should be here in a minute, and if you don't mind helping out, I thought I'd just run over and fix that loose porch rail at Lorelai's before someone breaks their neck."

"Porch rail?"

"Yeah, it's really loose. It shouldn't take long, and I would have taken care of it yesterday, but I wanted to get back before lunch," he told her, trying to sound casual. "I've got more deliveries this afternoon, so if it's okay with you, I could do that now and get back before breakfast is over."

"Um, okay," Rachel answered with a nod. "Sure, why not?"

"Great," Luke said as he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "I'll just; I'll go take care of that now." Within minutes, he had dashed upstairs, grabbed his toolbox and was out the door.

Once he was away from the diner, he took a deep breath. His steps slowed as he drank in the cool spring air, taking his time and relishing the quiet of the morning. His efforts were rewarded when a delightfully rumpled and definitely cranky Lorelai Gilmore stepped out onto her porch to read him the riot act for waking her up. He considered the fact that she had accidentally locked herself out of her own house a special added bonus, and greatly appreciated the diversion.

The dream came again, night after night. Each night, he saw a little more, fought a little harder, and tried in vain to force the words from his mouth. Each day, he found another excuse to leave the diner, finding that the fifteen stairs that separated the dining room from his apartment weren't quite enough of a buffer for his lungs to fully expand. Some roof shingles needed to be replaced at Lorelai's house. The porch rail had to be fixed again due to an unfortunate incident that happened when he tried to replace the shingles.

Every time he turned around, Rachel was there. She smiled at him; she petted him, and tried to cajole him into conversation. She made plans to have lunch with him, and she put his milk carton in the refrigerator door instead of on the shelf where he liked it. Every day, he felt a little more hemmed in. Every night, the dirt walls closed in around him. His bathroom was a dark room. When there wasn't a couple of dozen prints clothes pinned to the string she had strung across the tiny room, there were strategically hung bras made of lace and skimpy pairs of panties taking their place. It was enough to make a guy's head explode.

That morning, he turned around holding a carafe of decaf in one hand and a pot of regular in the other, and walked right into her. Rachel had laughed and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly right there in the middle of the breakfast rush. When he saw Miss Patty's beaming smile, he almost choked. When Patty whispered that she was so happy for him, Luke knew that he had to get out. He slammed the pots down on the burners and rushed around his diner like a man possessed, pushing table after table of customers through as quickly as humanly possible. The moment the crowd thinned, he called to Caesar that he was going out, and mumbled an acknowledgement to Rachel as she reminded him of their lunch date.

The moment he was past the square, he broke into a jog, making it to Lorelai's within two minutes. He circled the house and trotted up the back steps. Luke grimaced as he remembered that he had fixed the lock, and started to check the windows to see if any of them could be breached. When he struck out, he walked back to the door and frowned as he stared down at the cheap lock that had been there for years. One well placed flat head screw driver and a couple of whacks with his hammer later, the lock was toast and Luke stood in her sunny kitchen.

He made a mental note to replace the back door lock, and then carried his tool box upstairs, intent on fixing the drip, drip, drip under the bathroom sink that Rory had complained about earlier that week. He stopped in the bathroom doorway, his eyes locked on the lacy bras slung over the shower curtain rod to dry. Luke inhaled deeply, unable to deny the fact that these particular bras were having an entirely different effect on him than the ones in his own apartment. He recognized the blue one for sure. He thought he knew the pink one, but it was possible that it just looked similar to one he had seen before. But the red one, that was new, at least, new to him. He set the toolbox on the floor and placed the hammer and screw driver he had used to break into her house carefully on top. He almost reached out to touch the tantalizing scrap of lace and satin, but yanked his hand back at the last moment. Thankfully, there was a tiny part of him that realized that breaking into his friend's house and then pawing her underwear, was somewhere just beyond creepy.

Luke hurriedly stepped over his tools and the toolbox, anxious to remove himself from temptation. Backing into the hallway, he spied a stack of boxes near the attic access and smirked as he saw read Rory's neat lettering labeling them as Christmas decorations. He carried the boxes up to the attic, storing them close to the steps so that he would have easy access to them when Lorelai inevitably asked him to bring them down again. As he closed the narrow door, he heard the front door close and Lorelai call out a cautious, 'Hello?'

He was busted. He knew that he was busted in every way possible, so he did his best to take it like a man. He listened to the lecture, pushing back his masculine pride and clamping down on the simmering anger inside of him as she reasonably, but relentlessly, pointed out every way that he was failing in his relationship with Rachel. He knew logically that she was just trying to be a good friend, but there was something about Lorelai that made him itch to be illogical. He knew that she was right, that the way that he was avoiding Rachel was not the right thing to do, but a perverse part of him didn't mind being wrong.

That perverse part of him, one that was growing larger and louder as each day passed, wanted to say, 'Screw Rachel' and 'Screw Lorelai'. He wanted to tell them both to take their advice and their logic and their reasons for screwing him over literally and figuratively, and shove them straight up their shapely little asses. That perverse part of him wanted to pack Rachel's bags for her and drive her to the airport. That perverse part of him wanted to find some other girl, maybe a blonde this time, and park her on Lorelai's favorite stool as a permanent fixture in his life.

But he wouldn't do that. As much as he may want to stick it to both of them, it simply wasn't in him. He listened to Lorelai's lecture with half an ear, nodding along in all the right places, he thanked her as he stood to leave, and then he went home to Rachel; all the while trying to psyche himself up enough to decide whether to be in it or not, once and for all.

That night, he dreamed the dream again. That night, he saw her. Patty and Babette and Kirk filed by. Taylor even stopped to wish him well with his impending happiness, making a snide comment about how he hoped that Rachel could improve Luke's disposition. Andrew and Sy and even Mrs. Slutsky from next door passed by; each smiling, each congratulating him on his newfound happiness as he continued to claw at the narrow dirt walls that surrounded him.

Each handful of dirt crumbled to his feet, burying his boots and weighing them down so that he couldn't move. He opened his mouth to call for help, to tell them that they were all wrong, and plead with them to get him out of there. That's when he saw her.

Lorelai and Rory stood above him smiling brightly, their blue eyes twinkling with delight. Then Rachel appeared; taking Rory's place next to Lorelai. Her smile was softer, filled with affection and nostalgia. Suddenly, Lorelai clutched Rachel's arms, pushing her out in front of her, almost using her as a shield.

_Here it is, right in front of you. Just take it. Take the plunge. She could be ready. Just jump in and believe her._

He opened his mouth to answer, but instead, Lorelai gave Rachel a gentle nudge. Rachel jumped down into the hole with him, and Luke caught her, shaking his head in denial as her arms wound tightly around his neck.

_She's crazy about you. And if her worst trait is she's a milk whore, you have it pretty good. You just need to give this situation a fair chance._

Luke clawed at Rachel's arms, trying to pull them from his neck, but she held on tight, locking him in a stranglehold. He looked up and saw Lorelai beaming down at him as she tossed a shovelful of dirt into the hole. Soon the rest of the town joined in, quickly burying them up to their knees and then to their thighs.

Panic rising in his chest, Luke shook his head and called out, "No! No! Lorelai, no!" He could feel the dirt and debris choking him as he sat up in bed, coughing to clear his airway as he shook his head adamantly, trying just as hard to clear his head.

"What happened?" Rachel asked quietly as she patted his back.

"Dream," he gasped as he rolled out of bed and stumbled for the sink.

Rachel watched warily as he downed one glass of water and then quickly refilled it. "A dream about Lorelai?" she asked cautiously.

Luke shook his head and quickly said, "No, not about her. She was there."

"Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense, you've been seeing her a lot lately," Rachel said slowly.

"I see her a lot all the time," Luke answered defensively.

"No, yeah, I mean, you've been doing stuff for her," Rachel amended.

"I've always done stuff for her."

"I know," Rachel said as she stood up. "Luke, honestly, I'm not trying to pick a fight," she assured him.

"Sounds like it."

"I'm not."

Luke ran his hand tiredly over his face and then sighed as he glanced at the clock. "I need to go back to sleep. I have early deliveries in the morning. I'll take the couch so I don't bother you anymore."

"You don't bother me," she said softly.

"I'll just, I'll take the couch," he said gruffly, retrieving his pillow and carrying it over to the worn leather sofa.

Rachel squinted at him through the darkness. "Okay. Goodnight."

"Night," Luke murmured, and then stretched out on his side, cradling his head on his arm and closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, just to be sure he could.

He knew he shouldn't have been surprised to see Lorelai show up at the town meeting with the teacher guy. He figured that he should have known. Normally, he knew, but this time, things were a little fuzzy. Her wardrobe hadn't changed much, and that was the usually the first indicator. She never said anything, and he hadn't picked up any bits or pieces that fell from the grapevine; so when he looked up and saw the dark haired teacher guy slip into the seat next to Lorelai, he knew that he shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. Luke cussed himself for choosing a stupid town meeting as his excuse to escape. Now all he wanted was for it to be over.

The moment Taylor banged his gavel, something that felt strangely like a french fry hit him in the back of the head. Luke turned to glare at her, but Lorelai simply smiled, holding out the bag of fries from JoJo's as she asked, "Do you want some fries? We have extra."

His eyes cut to the teacher guy as he shook his head. "Nah, Rachel's minding the store so I should probably get going," he told her, trying to play it cool.

Lorelai grinned as he stood up to leave. "Yeah, I agree."

"I knew you would," he grumbled as he slid out of the row, averting his head as he saw the guy lean over and kiss Lorelai on the lips.

Luke's jaw tensed, and then he flexed his fingers, determined to not let them curl into a fist. He jogged down the steps of the dance studio, his eyes focused intently on the diner, and telling himself what a lucky guy he was that a woman like Rachel was waiting there for him.

****

Lorelai felt good about things for the first time in weeks. She and Rory had talked, really talked. And, in doing so, Lorelai not only learned some very important things about her daughter, but also about herself. She liked that. She and Max were moving forward after weeks of telephone interviews, and he was feeling comfortable enough to commit to an actual dinner date. And then another. And then, he agreed to come to a town meeting with them. All of a sudden, Lorelai Gilmore found herself in the middle of a real live relationship, and she had to admit, she thought that she was doing much better with it this time around. She liked that too.

Luke had been coming around more, fixing little things around the house. She liked that most of all. She liked knowing that, no matter what happened between them, their friendship had survived. She liked coming home and seeing that he had been there. And, she was proud of herself. When Lorelai realized that he was coming to her to hide from Rachel, she only gloated for a moment, and did so very quietly. On the inside, where no one could see.

She was proud that when her friend Luke found himself at a crossroads, she could be there for him, truly be there as a friend. Yes, she was proud of the advice that she had given him. It made her feel useful. She knew that only she could convince him that it was okay for him to be happy, that it was all right for him to have hope once again. And after years of Luke being the one to do most of the giving, Lorelai was more than happy to return the favor, even if it felt a little something like a knife in the gut.

But then, there he was, standing in her house dropping bombs on her and raining nuclear fallout all over her personal ticker tape parade. Her heart stopped for what felt like one full minute, and then her curiosity kicked into overdrive. He said Rachel had left, but the only words she could muster was a string of breathless platitudes. His typically Luke-ish response about Rachel having her reasons made her want to punch him in the mouth. The fact that Rachel was gone and Luke was standing there in front of her looking not at all heartbroken, made her want to kiss that mouth and make it all better, but not until after she committed the assault.

And then Max showed up. She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout at him as he made lame jokes about trying to be late. She wanted to push him out of the door, across the porch, down the steps and back into his car. She wanted to scream at both of them. She wanted to grab Luke by the shoulders and scream questions at him until he finally deigned to give her an answer.

Of course, she didn't do any of that. See how mature she had become in one short week? No, she introduced the two men to each other, and then stepped back, her eyes widening in shock when a pissing match, the likes of which she had never seen before, broke out in her foyer. Her eyes darted from Luke to Max and then back again as they one-upped each other, neither man backing down as they tried to best each other again and again. She stood back, watching like a spectator at Wimbledon as each man returned each salvo the other lobbed, trying to smash their point home. She had to smother a smile as Luke made his points concerning longevity and proximity. At the moment, Max seemed to think that he had the inside track and he had no qualms about letting Luke know it. Lorelai had to concede that Max's certainty was not wholly misplaced. At least, not until she knew a little bit more about what happened between Luke and Rachel. Then, she'd have to figure out what to do, and if there was anything to do.

The minute Luke left, Max lit into her. Lorelai tried to deflect his questions, stunned that he read the 'vibe' between her and Luke so easily, and slightly panicked over their apparent transparency. As he persisted, her mind raced ahead, trying to figure out who else could possibly know. She argued with him, even though she wasn't truly paying attention to a word he was saying. Weeks of pointless phone calls had made her fairly adept at tuning Max out while still continuing a conversation. It was a talent she planned to hone to a fine edge.

She moved about the living room preparing for her date, but her thoughts followed Luke home to the diner. When she snapped to, she quickly realized that things with Max were about to get ugly, and she wasn't entirely sure how they had gotten there. Unfortunately, the well of anger and confusion she had so carefully kept under cover began to overflow as he rambled on about dating other people while they were apart. He was so obviously dying to tell her about his exploits that it set her teeth on edge. She tried to keep her cool about it, she tried to dismiss the subject, knowing that it was nothing but a minefield that they didn't need to explore. But Max seemed intent on full disclosure, so she let him have it, right between the eyes.

Of course, she didn't tell him about Luke. Telling Max about Luke would make what happened between her and Luke something that it wasn't. Christopher and what happened on her parents' balcony? That was just stupid. It was nothing. Less than nothing, it was a mistake. A stupid, nothing mistake that meant absolutely nothing in terms of who she was and what she wanted, and therefore, was fair game to be used as a weapon because Max didn't know how little it meant. But Luke? Not Luke, never Luke. He was so much more than a convenient excuse to derail whatever it was she and Max were doing here.

Lorelai shook her head in dismay as Max doggedly tried to change the subject. Then, they started arguing about why they argue, and the whole thing suddenly seemed like far more trouble than it was worth. Round and round they went, and when Max finally threw up his hands in frustration, she blurted the first answer that came to mind. Max, on the other hand, had a different solution in mind for their problem.

Once again, Max Medina astounded her with his audacity. Of course, his solution to their problem was ludicrous. She knew it and he knew it. At least, she thought that he knew it. When he suggested that they set the whole argument aside and start the evening over, Lorelai was too shell-shocked to do anything but agree.

As they drove to dinner, she told herself sternly that she had invested too much time and effort in getting this relationship to the point where they were at to give up so easily. She reminded herself that these things took work and commitment and a willingness to be open to new possibilities. She remembered what she had told Rory about working on being open to love, and all of the complications and confusion that came with it. And because of that, because of her new-found dedication to letting go of childish romantic notions of love, she tried to stick to a more mature approach to dating and relationships, telling herself that this was just a bump in the road, and that they could get past it.

She smiled her way through a dinner that seemed like it would never end, she chattered her way through a drive home that seemed to stretch ten extra miles, and when they drove back into Stars Hollow three hours later, she tried with all of her might not to peek the diner as they passed. She tried, and she failed miserably.

After kissing Max goodnight and checking in with Rory, Lorelai trudged tiredly up the stairs. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she toed her shoes off, letting them fall to the floor. She closed her eyes as she fell back across her bed, but all she could see was the soft glow of the lamps burning in the apartment above the diner. Sighing in defeat, she rolled up and let the momentum of her body carry her forward until she could reach the cordless phone on her nightstand.

Lorelai used her thumb to dial a number long since memorized but seldom used, and then clutched the phone tightly as it rang.

"Hey, it's me," she said softly. "Were you sleeping?"

"Not yet," Luke answered. "I thought you had a date."

"Dinner," she confirmed. "I'm home now." Lorelai stretched out, swinging hr legs up onto the bed as she lay back against her pillows. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he answered gruffly.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you don't have to be fine, you know," she prodded gently.

Luke exhaled, the sound of it seeping through the phone line and coiling its way around her heart. "Are you sad?" she whispered.

"Yes and no," he answered at last.

Lorelai nodded as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Luke grumbled.

Lorelai wet her lips and nodded again as she swallowed hard. "Well, you can, you know, if you want to," she told him.

"Thanks." There was a pause and then he asked, "Dinner go okay?"

"Dinner? Yeah, that was fine," she said as she rolled her eyes.

"Good."

Lorelai looked up at the ceiling, searching for something, anything to say that could keep him on the line just a little bit longer, but coming up empty. "Well, uh, I should let you go."

"Thanks for calling."

"Anytime," she whispered. "Goodnight, Luke."

"Goodnight, Lorelai," he answered, and then hung up.

****

_Timing is a funny thing_, Luke mused as lay staring at his ceiling waiting for the alarm clock to buzz. _Timing is such a funny thing that it isn't even funny. Not when it bites you in the ass over and over again._

He saw a girl one night in a bar; a night when he was definitely worse for wear, a night when he should have stayed home instead. He kissed that girl when he had no business kissing anyone, and he waited for her to come back, knowing that he wouldn't be of any real use to her even if she did.

A rush was on and he was spread too thin. He was spread as thin as his skin; stretched taut over a heart so bruised it could barely beat, and an ego that hunkered down to avoid further blows. A rush was on, and that girl was leading the charge; teasing him, taunting him, pushing all of his buttons until she found the one that could open him up again.

She blew into his life like a whirlwind, scattering all of his defenses, though he never let her know it. He just couldn't. The timing was never right. They circled each other like punch drunk boxers, dancing safely out of reach each time one dared to advance. Their footwork was all wrong. Their timing was way off. But each time she climbed through the ropes, he stood there waiting, ready to go another round.

Timing was a funny thing indeed. He hadn't needed Rachel's prompting to know that he had to do what he had to do. He gave himself one day, just one, to work out exactly what to say because he knew how important it would be to get it just right. And then, just when he'd managed to muster the words and the courage to say what he needed to say, to tell her what she needed to hear; some glib guy with slicked back hair and attitude to spare waltzed right in and swept her right out from under him.

Luke snorted and shook his head as he rolled onto his side, nursing his wounded pride and cursing his lack of timing. He pulled the pillow out from under his head and pressed it over it to muffle the sound of the fresh round of self-recrimination brewing in his head. "Timing is everything," he muttered, and then squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

****

_I am an island_, Lorelai thought as she sat as still as a statue, gazing at the sea of bright yellow daisies that surrounded her. _One thousand yellow daisies. Not nine hundred and ninety-nine, not one thousand and one_.

He had given her exactly what she'd asked for, not a stem more, not one bloom less. It was stunning; this extravagant display, this grand gesture. She had to hand it to him, the man had style. She couldn't help but smile as she imagined what Luke would say to such an overt ploy. After all, he was a man who bought oven mitts in the shape of cats for the woman he loved. She shook her head and then tucked her chin to her chest, knowing that it wasn't right for her to be thinking of Luke in that moment.

Her cheeks warmed with a blush as she stared down at the phone clasped tightly in her hands. Max Medina was a man who knew what he wanted and went after it with single minded determination. She admired his passion. It was heady, sitting in the midst of a thousand yellow daisies and knowing that they were all for her. Every single one of them. Without a doubt. Unquestionably.

Lorelai wanted to keep a level head about it. After all, she was the new, improved mature Lorelai who was seeking a real relationship with a real man and the possibility of a real future. She told herself that it was too soon. She kept reminding herself that they didn't know each other well enough to take this step. She worried that in her heart she wasn't quite sure of him.

The flowers were unquestionably for her, but she still had questions. Questions with answers she feared she would never know for certain. Lorelai pulled a single yellow daisy from the pot next to her and eyed the petals closely. There were two men in her life. Two men who stood in her house swinging those things around so hard that she was tempted to fill a pool full of mud and let them go after each other. The problem was, if she dared to ask that poor daisy those age old questions; she knew what one man's answer would be, and she was afraid to know how the other's would turn out.

Cast adrift in this sea of yellow daisies, Lorelai Gilmore knew one very important thing for certain. Well, two, really, and they were both very difficult things to ignore. Max Medina had made it crystal clear that she was the one that he wanted, and he had proved time and time again that he was willing and able to come after her. _That had to count for something, right?_

_tbc_


	8. Claim Resolution

**A/N: Here it is, at last. I just want to thank you all for hanging in there for my little experiment in terror. This one was a doozy to write. I hope that you enjoyed it, and I thank you most sincerely for your patience and kind words of support.**

**Claim Resolution**

**April 2001**

_Big things. Big potentially life-changing things,_ she'd said. Luke didn't need the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach to tell him what this big, potentially life-changing thing could be, he could see the excitement in her eyes. He stared down at the spindly yellow weed she had handed to him with a fierce scowl. He'd seen the excitement in her eyes, and now he was praying fervently that the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was wrong.

Luke dropped the daisy into a water glass and stomped into the kitchen, bracing both hands on the work surface as he forced his lungs to expand. He blinked unseeingly at the pots and pans stacked under the stainless steel counter across from him, wondering how she possibly couldn't know. He'd seen the excitement in her eyes, and Luke knew exactly how she couldn't know. She was swept up in the moment, carried away with the hugeness of whatever this big potentially life-changing thing was. What worried him was that she wouldn't be able to see past that big thing well enough to realize that it wasn't the big things that counted, it was the little things.

**December 1998 **

When Luke walked through the open door to his apartment, he spotted Lorelai standing at the bookshelves, her arms wrapped around her stomach tightly as she stared at a framed family photo he had long-since stopped seeing. "Hey," he said as he closed the door behind him. When she jumped and spun toward him, he smiled reassuringly. "Sorry, I had to finish the grill or your burger would taste like de-greaser tomorrow."

"Hmm, a little added tang?" she asked, smiling at him as she crossed the room.

"That zesty zip. It would probably eat away your stomach lining too, if you had any left," he said, pulling her closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"See? You could have skipped the cleaning. Totally unnecessary," she said as she nipped at his jaw with her lips.

"Well, lucky for me, you're not my only customer," he answered, tipping his head back and shaking the ball cap from it as she kissed his neck.

"Ah, but I'm your very best customer," she whispered. "Unless there are others who tip you the way that I do."

Luke chuckled, running his hand up under her hair and massaging the nape of her neck with his strong fingers. "No one tips the way that you do," he said gruffly.

"You remember that the next time I ask for a refill," she whispered into his ear.

Luke shivered slightly and then bent toward her, silently asking for more. "I never complain until the third."

"Liar," she murmured as she bit his ear lobe gently.

"Okay, sometimes I do, just for fun." Luke slid his hand under the hem of her sweater, and spread his fingers over the warm, silky skin of her back. "I'm glad you came by."

"Hmm, me too," she replied as she kissed her way to his mouth. "You gonna kiss me hello, Duke?" Lorelai asked softly.

"Hello, annoying woman," he answered, and then kissed her hungrily. Her body swayed against his, igniting a rush of fire that swept from head to toe. Her tongue circled his, tempting it into her mouth and surrendering completely when the plunder began.

Kissing and laughing and stumbling, they made their way to the bed leaving only a trail of discarding clothing to mark how they had gotten there. Sighing and moaning and groaning, his body moved against hers, pressing her into the mattress even as she arched up off of it wordlessly begging for more. Tasting and testing and savoring, his mouth moved over her body; pulling on her hardened nipples with his teeth and tongue, trailing from freckle to freckle across her chest, lapping at the creamy skin of her stomach as he sought to soothe the nagging hunger that ached inside of him.

He was learning every sound she made, cataloging them in his memory with each visit to his apartment. He knew she'd gasp when his tongue stroked her sensitive clit, he knew she's moan with appreciation as it pressed into her, he knew she'd whisper his name, his real name, as he tasted her climax. There was the tiny little grunt of dismay she gave each time he entered her, as if she had to remind herself of how well they fit. There were the breathy pants that filled his ears, roaring through his head like a gale force wind as her walls closed around him, locking him deep inside of her. And then there was that sigh. That mind blowing sigh of utter contentment as they lay spent and panting, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, his body pulsing inside of her as his heart beat in time with hers.

Then there was the absence of sound, those precious few minutes when she curled up beside him silent and satisfied. He loved the feel of her hair as it slipped through his fingers. He'd stroke it softly, separating the tangled curls gently as she cushioned her head with his shoulder, her breath stirring the hair on his chest. It always seemed to end up like this the first time. No matter how heated their foreplay, not matter how intense the actual coupling became, they always ended up here. At least, for a few precious minutes. Soon the chatter would begin, and on its heels the teasing that would morph into banter and then turn from verbal foreplay into physical. That's when things became more playful, more adventurous. He knew it would start any second. And he also knew it would end with her raising that perfect heart shaped ass up into the air, offering it to him tauntingly, or closing those kiss swollen lips around his cock and sucking him until his brain exploded like shrapnel.

He liked that too. He liked that a lot. But in truth, this was what he liked the most. Her body felt warm and pliant, her muscles long and lax, pressing into his until he was sure they would meld together. He closed his eyes; savoring what he was sure would be the last of those quiet moments and looking forward to what would come out of her mouth next. But this time, she threw him completely for a loop.

"Tell me about your parents," she whispered, her fingertips dancing through the soft hair on his chest.

"What?"

"Your parents, what were they like?" she asked, looking up at him.

Luke frowned for a moment, and then relaxed as he saw the genuine interest in her eyes. He shrugged and said, "They were just normal parents."

"Are you like your mom or your dad?" she persisted.

Luke scratched his cheek absently and then lowered his hand to his stomach. "Um, both, I guess." He puzzled over her question for a moment and then said, "My dad had the hardware store, you know. He worked a lot, but he was always home for dinner. My mom was just your usual mom, I guess."

Lorelai rolled onto her stomach and propped her arm on his chest, peering up at him curiously. "How was she the usual mom?"

He shrugged. "Well, uh, she stayed home, took care of the house and us. Watched soap operas in the afternoon, but she'd never admit it," he said with a soft laugh. "I used to have to sit at the kitchen table and do my homework while she'd make dinner. Liz was usually under the table playing with her dolls or whatever. She liked to sit under the table."

Lorelai smiled encouragingly. "That sounds nice. Did your mom teach you how to cook?"

Luke shook his head. "Not really, no. I mean, I watched her. It beat the crap out of multiplication problems," he said gruffly.

"Was she a good cook?"

"Yeah, she was good, I think. I was a kid, so I didn't have the refined palate I have now," he said dryly.

"What did she make?"

"The usual stuff; meatloaf, spaghetti, pot roast."

"Mmm, pot roast," Lorelai said with an impish grin. "I bet it was good."

Luke searched his memory for a moment. "Yeah, it was. You know, I don't think she really liked cooking," he said slowly.

"No?"

"She did it, and she was good at it, and dinner was always on the table at exactly five-thirty, but no, I don't think she enjoyed it. She liked baking more."

"Aw, you had a baking mom?" she asked enviously. Luke nodded, rolling his eyes at her enthusiasm. "What did she bake?"

"Cookies, cakes, pies; just the normal stuff you bake, nothing fancy."

"Did you help?"

"Sometimes she'd let us help, but she knew we were only in it for the batter," he answered with a fond smile.

Lorelai smiled too. "I can't imagine you eating raw cookie dough."

"Well, like I said, I didn't have the palate."

"Did she smack your hands?"

"Yes, with a wooden spoon."

"Did that stop you?"

"Nope."

"She sounds great."

"She was great. You would have liked her, she made great pies."

"Yeah? You make great pies."

"Her recipes."

"Ah, now I know your secret," she said as she pressed her cheek to his chest. Luke's fingers trailed along her bare arm as she sighed softly. "Was your dad all terse and grumbly like you?"

"Yep."

"Was he crazy about your mom?"

Luke blinked in surprise and then tucked his chin to his chest, staring down at the top of her head. "Yeah."

"I can see it," she said wistfully. "I mean, she baked pies."

"Yeah, that was the reason why," Luke said solemnly.

"Reason enough," Lorelai whispered.

Luke frowned as he pressed back into the pillow, bracing himself for the next barrage of questions.

"We're going to my parents' for their annual Christmas party tomorrow," Lorelai said softly.

"Christmas isn't for two more weeks," he pointed out.

"The Gilmores schedule their own," she said solemnly. "They have an in with the Messiah, this year, they got him bumped to tomorrow."

"I see."

He felt her eyelashes brush against his chest, and his finger wound their way into her hair once more. "Well, that will be fun. You like parties," he said gruffly.

Lorelai snorted and then shook her head slightly. "It won't be fun. It'll be miserable."

"Miserable?"

Lorelai smiled wanly and then shifted, rolling over on top of him and pushing her hair back with her hand as she sat up, straddling his hips. "My parents were not your normal parents," she told him as she splayed her fingers across his chest, rubbing her way down his stomach.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Luke looked up at her, a concerned frown bisecting his eyebrows. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Lorelai gave him a small smile and then leaned down to kiss him sweetly. "Thank you," she murmured as her lips trailed across his cheek.

Luke nodded slightly, somehow knowing that she didn't want to say anything more. He ran his hands down her back until they settled in the curve of her waist, and said the only thing he could say to make her feel better. "Bring Rory by tomorrow night. I'll bake a pie," he whispered, nuzzling her hair aside so that his lips could find her cheek.

**April 2001**

_God damn Luke!_ she thought as she turned her pillow over and took her aggressions out on it. _How dare he stand there with that smug smile on his face asking all of the questions I should have already had answers for? Doesn't he know that I don't owe him answers for anything? I don't have answers for anything_, she ranted to herself. _And Max, asking me over and over again if my questions meant that I was saying yes. How can questions be a 'yes'? Yes is an answer, not a question, damn it. He's an English teacher, he should know that! And, wasn't it pretty freaking obvious that she didn't have any answers?_

Lorelai cringed, remembering how she had cringed at the curious but hopeful look on Rory's face when she came back to the table. All she could do was shake her head 'no' and take her seat, gritting her teeth through the rest of the meal. She answered Rory's relentless questioning as best she could on the ride home, taking great care to give her daughter actual answers, and not trying to dodge the questions with questions of her own. She knew how annoying that could be.

_Why couldn't he just answer her questions? They weren't even her questions, they were Luke's questions. Why couldn't he just suck it up and answer Luke's questions? They were pretty simple questions, really. Where would they live? What about Margie and the bank? Where would we put all of my stuff? How come it would have to be my stuff that gets tossed out?_

Lorelai flung one arm up over her head, replaying the conversation again and again, and getting more agitated each time. She was trying to be as honest as she could possibly be at that point, with herself, with Rory and with Max. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't a game or a contest of wills. She knew that, for her own happiness, she had to be absolutely certain of her answer; regardless of the disappointment on Rory's face or the dogged insistence in Max's voice.

_Ugh, and he was persistent. Like a pit bull._ _Why does he always have to try to get the upper hand? Is it because they were Luke's questions? Did Max somehow know that they were Luke's questions? Had he guessed? Was there a 'vibe' in those simple questions that somehow gave them away? What did it matter if I was saying yes or no, those questions would still have to be answered. _

Scowling up at the ceiling, Lorelai wondered what his answers would have been if he hadn't been so insistent on squeezing an answer out of her.

_Would he agree to it all? Would he live here in her house with her stuff and bank at her bank? Would Margie call him Max, or Mr. Medina? Where would they keep the coupons? A can? A drawer? A can, I think. A drawer would be too big, get to messy, and you'd never find the coupon you needed. Plus, you could take the can to the store with you. Luke's mom was probably right about that. A can would be the way to go. But would Max want a drawer? Max was very orderly, maybe he'd insist on a drawer. Would he, or would he just accept a can if that was what she decided to use? _

She sighed, searching the ceiling for the answers she craved. Something told her that he would. Some niggling little voice in her head told her that Max would agree to anything she wanted as long as he got the answer that he wanted. Her scowl deepened. She didn't want him to just agree to whatever she wanted just to get what he wants. _That's my trick_, she thought petulantly.

Lorelai grunted as she rolled onto her side, blinking at the glowing numbers on her fuzzy alarm clock. The fact of the matter was that she didn't want Max to just agree to anything, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he would. It was entirely possible that these things simply didn't matter as much to him as they did to her, but just the same, she wished he would push back a little. _No woman wants to marry a doormat_, she told herself firmly. Lorelai knew that she probably wasn't the most self-aware person in the world, but she did know herself well enough to know that Max was going to have to learn to fight back, or at least, pretend to fight back.

As much as it irked her, she knew that her mother was right. She was a little contrary by nature, but she really couldn't help it. _How is a person supposed to trust something that they didn't have to fight for?_ she wondered. _If everyone just hands you everything you want on a silver platter, how do you know that you deserve it?_

One thing she knew for sure was that she didn't want Max, or anyone else for that matter, giving her anything that she hadn't earned. She'd worked and scrimped and saved and fought tooth and nail for everything she was and everything she had, and she'd be damned if someone was going to try to negate all of that hard work by simply placating her. She wasn't some petty dictator to be appeased. She wasn't a shrewish harridan to be kept quiet. She was a woman with a life and a daughter to protect. She had wants and needs and desires of her own, and she was willing to put in the time and the effort to reap the benefits of her hard work. All she wanted was someone who was willing and able to work and fight alongside of her, not someone who simply wanted to push her into doing or saying what he wanted to hear just because he wanted to hear it.

**June 1999**

Lorelai flopped onto her back, breathless and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. A laugh bubbled up from deep inside of her, and she turned to look at Luke. "You just couldn't let me win, huh?" she asked.

"Where's the fun in that?" he replied with a lazy wave of his hand.

"There is no fun in that," she agreed. Using the last of her remaining strength, she pushed her damp hair back from her face. "I can't believe it's this hot."

"Really? I'd think you'd be getting used to it by now," he answered with a smug smile.

Lorelai swatted his arm. "The weather."

"Oh, the weather," he said with a deep chuckle. "I thought you meant me."

Lorelai grinned as she rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her elbow. "I have a new rule to add."

"I don't think you can at this point."

"Sure I can."

"Who says?"

"I do. I started this, I made up most of the rules, and now I want to add a rule that I can make a rule any time I want to," she said primly.

"I may have to file a grievance," he warned.

"Don't you want to know what the rule is first?"

Luke nodded. "Hit me with it. But I'm just tellin' ya that if I don't like it, I'll check the bylaws."

"The new rule is that whenever you kiss me right here," she said as she pressed her fingers to the pulse throbbing in her neck, "you have to do it just like you just did."

"How was that?" he asked with an amused smile.

"Goooood," she purred.

"I'll try to remember, but I can't guarantee anything," he said dismissively.

"But it's a rule," she argued.

Luke snorted and then pushed on her shoulder, shoving her over onto her back and then covering her with his hot, sticky body. "Some rules are made to be broken," he murmured as he swirled his tongue over the throbbing pulse in her throat. "See? Different," he challenged. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"You're gonna pay," she hissed playfully.

"Lookin' forward to it."

"And pay and pay," she whispered as he drew the tender skin into his mouth, kissing her just as he had a short time before.

"I have a rule," he murmured against her skin, licking the salty sweat that was the result of their lovemaking from her smooth skin.

"Yeah?"

"I say that when you, you know, you scream like you did that last time," he said in a deep, raspy voice.

Lorelai moaned as he nibbled on her ear lobe. "Maybe we should combine our rules," she whispered.

"That could work."

"That could work well," she said as his hand closed over her breast, his palm abrading her nipple as he squeezed her possessively. "So, we're agreed?"

"Agreed."

Lorelai raked her nails up his back, smiling as his body tensed and bowed. "A pleasure doing business with you," she said with a wicked smile.

Luke returned her smile with a wolfish grin of his own. "The pleasure is all mine." He pressed his lips to her neck, and her pulse skipped a beat. "I wanna hear you scream, Lorelai," he said softly, and then his teeth scraped lightly over the tender skin. "I wanna hear you scream over and over again."

**April 2001**

When the alarm clock buzzed at exactly four forty-five, Luke stretched one arm out to silence it without breaking his staring contest with the ceiling above his bed. He gave it two more minutes before he finally conceded defeat, and rolled out from under the sheet. He splashed water on his face, scrubbed his teeth until he began to feel like something resembling a human, and then dressed as quickly as his sluggish body would allow. Placing the blue baseball cap firmly on his head, his gaze swept the tiny apartment, coming to rest on that old family photograph that sat forgotten in its frame. He shoved his wallet into his back pocket and palmed his keys, crossing the room to the bookshelves and stood staring at the photograph with the same fascination that Lorelai had years ago.

Finally, he turned away, moving quickly through the apartment and out of the door. Switching on the lights as the curtain swayed behind him, Luke took a deep breath, trying to mentally psyche himself up for another day that he was sure would prove to be no different from the others. He stared out the windows and his mouth turned downward as his eyes picked out the baskets and bowls of daisies that decorated every corner and bench in the town. Moving toward the kitchen, he turned on the coffee maker, and his gaze fell to the single yellow bloom that now drooped listlessly in a forgotten water glass.

Luke plucked the daisy from the glass, tempted to crush the hapless flower in his hand. But as he scowled at its sunny face, he couldn't help seeing Lorelai's bright smile.

_We're friends and I really want us to stay friends. No matter what._

A sharp stab of guilt and shame twisted the knife in his heart as he held the thin stem gingerly, twirling it between his fingers. He took a deep breath and then placed the flower carefully on the counter before reaching for the order pad next to the register. After scrawling a hasty message, he rummaged through a drawer until he located a roll of scotch tape. Retrieving the flower, he walked to the door and hung the note just above the 'closed' sign. Holding the daisy firmly but gently between his fingers, Luke stepped out into the cool pre-dawn air and locked the door carefully behind him.

****

Lorelai sat up with a start. She pressed one hand to her pounding heart and clamped the other over her mouth, trying desperately to swallow her scream. She stared wide-eyed at the window as the pearly pre-dawn light filtered through the curtains, and then turned to look at the clock. Lowering her hands, Lorelai groaned as she fell back against the pillows and covered her face with her arms. She lay still for a few minutes, trying to will herself back to sleep, but then gave up, grumbling, "Not even six on a Saturday," as she threw back the covers and climbed from the bed.

She stuffed her feet into the nearest pair of slippers and then tucked her hair behind her ears as she trudged tiredly toward the stairs. Two minutes later, she braced both hands against the counter, staring at the coffee maker intently as a thing trickle of brown liquid finally seeped through the filter and into the pot. Lorelai closed her eyes, listing to the stream of coffee gradually filling the carafe, and wishing with all of her heart that she could come up with a different answer than the one she had.

Once the steady stream of steaming liquid slowed to a drip, Lorelai filled a mug with the aromatic brew and inhaled deeply as she carried it to the front door. She took a cautious sip before turning the locks, and then opened the door to retrieve the morning paper.

"Oh!" she cried softly as she spotted Luke sitting on the top step. "Hey, you scared me," she whispered as she stepped onto the porch and pulled the door closed quietly behind her.

Luke craned his neck to look back at her. "Sorry. I didn't think you'd be up yet, so I didn't want to knock."

"Yeah, uh, something woke me up. Maybe I sensed a large hulking man huddling on my porch," she said jokingly. "You know, normally I wouldn't be up for hours on a Saturday," she said as she approached the steps. "How long were you going to wait?"

Luke shrugged. "I don't know."

Lorelai frowned as she saw the wilted daisy he twirled between his fingers. "Nice flower," she said softly as she sat down beside him.

"Some nut job gave it to me."

"Hare Krishna?"

Luke snorted. "No, but close. She likes to brainwash people into giving her coffee."

Lorelai cocked her head as she peered at him closely. "Why is there a large hulking man huddled on my porch?"

Luke reached up and scratched his ear, tugging on it nervously as he stared down at the bedraggled flower. "I just, I realized that I haven't been a very good friend to you lately," he said gruffly. Clearing his throat, he sat up a little straighter, but still kept his eyes fixed on the flower. "I mean, you tried to be a good friend to me with the whole Rachel thing, and I… I haven't been a very good friend, and I'm sorry."

"That's okay," she said quietly.

Luke shook his head and then dared to glance over at her. "No. No, it's not. That was rule number one, right? We're supposed to be friends no matter what."

"Sometimes it's a little hard," Lorelai said in an understanding tone.

"Yeah." Luke looked down at the flower again, and then began to wind the thin stem around his index finger. "Did you say yes?" he asked quietly.

"No."

He looked up quickly. "You said no?"

"I haven't said yes or no," she clarified.

"Oh."

Lorelai watched as he released the stem, letting it unravel before wrapping it around his finger again in the opposite direction. "I think I'm going to have to say no, though."

"You are?"

Lorelai shrugged and cradled her coffee mug to her chest as she stared out over the yard. "I just keep thinking that I shouldn't have to think about it this hard," she admitted softly. "I know that's probably not the mature or responsible way to think about this. I mean, I know that marriage is a really serious thing, and you need to think about it a lot and be sure that it's right," she said quickly. "I guess I just can't help it. A part of me keeps feeling like I shouldn't have to think so hard about whether Max is the right guy for me or not."

"I know what you're saying."

Lorelai smiled as she looked down at her slippers. "Thanks. I knew you would."

"When Rachel came back, everyone just assumed that I'd be happy about it," he said thoughtfully. "But I wasn't."

"You weren't?"

Luke shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, I was happy to see her, to know that she's alright and that her life is going good, but happy that she was back, back? No, not really."

"Wow."

"Wow?"

"Well, I just, I assumed…" she trailed off with a sheepish laugh. "Yeah, I assumed too."

"And then, I got to thinking that maybe I should be happy, maybe it was right," he said as he shook his head.

Lorelai winced as she asked, "I pushed you, didn't I?"

"You, uh, you gave me a little shove… Yeah, you pushed me some," he said at last.

"I'm sorry."

"I let you push, though, right? I mean, you're pretty strong, but you couldn't have pushed me if I didn't want you to," he told her.

"Maybe not."

"I can tell you one thing, though," he said gruffly as he twirled the limp flower upside down. "I'm not gonna push you to say yes to that guy."

"Max," she supplied helpfully.

"I don't want you to say yes, Lorelai," he said as he turned to look her in the eye. "I want you to say no. I want you to think about giving us a chance."

"Us?"

"Us," he said firmly. "Listen, I know we had rules, but hell, I've broken almost all of them now anyway," he said in a rush. "I came here this morning to apologize to you for not being a good friend, but as I sat here… I can't do this anymore. I've thought about it and thought about it, and I'm asking you not to say yes. I'm asking you to think about changing your mind about us."

"Changing my mind?" she repeated blankly.

"And I know that this could completely ruin everything, but I waited and waited and now I can't wait any more. I can't let you marry him, or think about marrying him, without telling you."

"Telling me what?" she asked breathlessly.

Luke's patience snapped and he tossed the daisy down onto the step, crushing it under his boot as he turned to glare at her. "Aren't you listening to me? I broke all the rules, Lorelai! Every stinking one of them! Real rules, important rules, ground rules," he hissed, pointing to the worn wooden steps to emphasize his point. "I don't break rules! Not real rules. I break Taylor's rules because they're Taylor's and they're stupid and he makes them up as he goes along, but not rules that matter!"

"Okay," she whispered as she set her mug aside, taken aback by his vehemence.

"Rule number one, we stay friends, good friends, no matter what," he said, holding up one finger. "I just told you, I'm a shitty friend because I don't want you to marry this guy, even if it makes you happy. Rule number two," he said, pausing as he added another finger to his count. "I have felt guilty every day for the past three years. Not because I didn't want what we had going on, but because I wanted more than that. I want strings and I have expectations, so there!"

"Luke," she said hesitantly.

"Number three," he cut her off, holding up another finger. "I lied. Every time I touched you and then let you walk away and pretended I didn't care, I lied. Not the most satisfying head game in the world, but it was all I had to work with." Luke paused and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he went on."Number four, I'm here, Lorelai," he told her, his voice breaking slightly. "I'm here sitting on your porch doing the one thing I told myself I'd never do again. But I have to do it, even if it blows the whole thing sky high, I can't not do it."

Lorelai stared back at him, watching as he blinked in disbelief, seemingly stunned by his own admissions. "Are you done?" she asked softly.

Luke nodded slowly, and then his shoulders slumped. "Yeah. Unless you want to count those other two rules that we made up later; which, for the record, I would do my best to not break."

"The ones about…" Lorelai trailed off as she touched her fingers to the racing pulse in her throat.

"Yeah."

"No, don't break those," she murmured.

Luke watched her warily, gnawing the inside of his cheek as he waited for her to say something. Finally, he broke. "Lorelai?" he prompted.

"_You_ broke all the rules?" she asked with a puzzled frown.

"I think I just told you that," he grumbled.

Lorelai's lips twitched, and then curved, blooming into a smile sunnier than any daisy could hope to be. "Thank God," she whispered as she pressed her hands to his cheeks and planted a kiss on his lips.

"Thank God?" he asked as she drew back slightly, looking straight into his eyes.

Lorelai shrugged; her eyes bright and shining as she saw the hope flare in his. "I broke them all too. I'm just glad you admitted it first."

"You did?"

"Yeah?"

"When?"

"I'm not telling you. You cracked first, so I win," she said as she slid her hands to his shoulders, holding onto him for balance as she stood up slightly, knocking her coffee cup down the steps as she slung one leg over his lap.

"I'm not sure that's how it works," he said hitting her with that devastating smile.

"Yes, it is. I looked it up in the bylaws," Lorelai answered, refusing to fall victim to the smile. She leaned back, trusting him to support her weight as he buried his hands in her tangled hair.

"I may have to lodge a protest," he said as he pulled her down to him. Luke kissed her sweetly at first, and then claimed her wholly as he wound his arms around her and held on tight.

The front door opened, and they heard Rory mumble, "Mom?" followed by a sharp gasp.

"Rory!" Lorelai said, knocking her head into Luke's nose as she jerked up.

"Ah! Geez!" Luke groaned as he covered his nose.

"Oh God!" Rory whispered. "Sorry!" she yelped as she slammed the front door shut.

"Oh God," Lorelai muttered as she scrambled off of Luke's lap.

"I think you broke my nose," he said as he pinched it tightly.

"You'll be fine," Lorelai assured him. She bent down and pecked a kiss to the hand that covered his nose. "I have to… I've got some explaining to do."

Luke shook his head to clear it as he lowered his hand slowly and looked up at her. "Do you need me to…"

Lorelai shook her head quickly. "I should… I have some things to take care of."

"Oh. Right," Luke said, ducking his head as he moved to stand up. He saw the crushed petals of the bright yellow daisy trapped beneath his boot. "If you… If you need to take some time to think about, you know," he began hesitantly.

"I don't need to think. Right now, I just need to try to explain," Lorelai said with a wince.

"Right."

"But it'll be okay," she said slowly. "Rory loves you, right? And she's back together with Dean, so that'll help, and she knows what it's like to be confused," she justified, her forehead furrowed in concentration. "You heard her in that meeting, she knows what it's like to not be able to say what you feel."

"What you feel," he repeated. "What do you feel?"

Lorelai smiled ruefully as she looked up at him. "I'm not ready to say it, but I think you know. I mean, I'm getting there, but I'm not quite there yet."

Luke nodded. "That's okay. You'll let me know?"

Lorelai climbed the steps, stopping when they could finally see eye to eye. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and pecked a soft kiss to his lips. "Luke, my friend, I can honestly tell you that you'll be the first to know."

_The End_


End file.
